Painter Of The Wind - Of Ink And Song 2
by ObsGryph
Summary: The journeys of Yunbok and Jeonghyang
1. Chapter 1

**Usu 1782**

A wind stirred gently, swirling around and over frozen trees, water and ground before it was rebuffed by the solid resistance of wood. Undeterred, it swept over the wood, running questing fingers over the papered latticed windows that similarly withstood the onslaught before it finally gave up and continued on its journey. As it left, a faint light glimmered on the horizon. As it advanced, the darkness withdrew before this menace. A faint crow, then another. Within the house, eyes opened sleepily and reluctantly. Another crow sounded almost inaudibly, drawing the eyes opened again as they were slowly shutting. A sigh. It was time to get up but she was loathed to do so. Yet another crow, as if reprimanding her for her sloth. Sometimes, she wished she was a child again, then she could sleep a little longer. She sat up reluctantly and looked over to the covered lump on her left.

Oh but he would suffocate himself when he sleep like that, she thought as she leaned over to pull back the cover he had drawn over his face till all could be seen were his closed eyes. But he felt the touch and apparently did not like the slight chill that struck him for he grumbled indistinctly and turned to his left, burrowing under the cover until all she could see was his topknot. She smiled. Oh well, best to leave him be. Silently, she got up, folded away the bedding and quilt before dressing herself.

As she pulled the door closed behind her, there were soft rattling noises and aromas from the kitchen. Ae-young must have started already. The young girl looked up from the steaming gamasot and murmured a greeting which Jeong-hyang returned as she poured out warm water into a basin and did her morning ablution. Once she was finished, she went out through the kitchen door to toss the water onto the vegetable patch, noticing that tiny rivulets of water was forming on the frozen ground. Spring would come soon. Her first spring in a new life. What would the year bring, she wondered as she returned to the kitchen to assist Ae-young. With the ease of long practise, they settled into the tasks of preparing the morning meal.

In the back room, the sleeper made not the slightest move even as the room became brighter, not even stirring as a deep voice called outside or when the door opened again sometime later. A sigh. Feet tread softly across the floor and the quilt was pulled down. Not even a twitch was visible on that sleeping face. Grinning mischievously, she lifted her hand. There was something on his face, tapping, tapping. Disturbed, he turned away but it persisted. The feathery touches alighted like pesky flies. Annoyed, he batted at them, not really awake. But they returned as swiftly the moment he withdrew his hand. All he wanted was to sleep, why did the flies have to come and bother him? Flies? Why would there be flies in winter? Puzzled, he opened his eyes to the grinning face of Jeong-hyang.

"Oh, let me be!" Yunbok grumbled mildly, closing his eyes again.

"No, you have to get up," she tried to pull the quilt off him but he had guessed she would remove it so he held on to it. "Master Park is already here, both of you are supposed to get out there to get more wood or have you forgotten?"

"I don't want to chop wood, I want to sleep!" he let go of the edge of the quilt she was tugging persistently. However, she was determined to hound him up even as he turned on his side away from her.

"You're worst than a child," she scolded, folding the quilt as he curled up, shivering a little in the cooler air after the warmth of the cover. Even though there was a pangchang at the door to keep out the chilly draughts, the room was barely retaining the warmth emanating from the floor. "Painter!" exasperated, she pulled at his shoulder and gave a surprised yelp as he turned back and yanked her to lay across him.

"Painter? Painter? That's not my name." he grinned as she tried to lever herself off. "It's starting to sound like an invective because you only say that when you're annoyed or angry nowadays."

"No, have I?" she said, ceasing her efforts to stare at him in mortification. Calling him by some other name had never occurred to her, so used was she to using the title that she had come to know him.

"I was just joking," he tapped her nose teasingly. "But, it is time you should call me something else. It will be very strange if other people keep hearing you addressed me as painter which would make them overly curious."

There was truth in that and she was annoyed with herself for failing to notice this glaring oversight. Used it often enough in public and she could very well accidentally reveal who he was. Even though it was hardly possible anyone in the village would ever know anything about Hyewon. Still, he was supposed to remain hidden, a worker at the paper mill, apprentice to Master Park. A thought came to mind.

"But why bother calling you anything else? Aren't you my nampyon?" she poked her finger at his chest to emphasize her point. "And a lazy one at that! Keuran!"

"Aigoo! That hurts!" laughingly, he grabbed her finger to stop her jabs and a tussle ensued. He pushed her away and sat up. "I say, stop already." he put up his hands defensively and then grabbed her into a hug when she failed to stop. "Enough, I surrender."

"So soon?" she mocked teasingly and then all thoughts fled as she looked into his eyes.

"RASCAL!" the stentorian shout from the daecheong broke them apart.

"It's too early to hear his voice," Yunbok grumbled, scooting over to the basin of water and towel he spied behind her as she folded up the bedding and put it away on top of the bandaji. Removing the manggeon, he lightly wrung out the towel in the warm water and scrubbed his face and neck as she untied his topknot to swiftly comb out his hair, smoothing out the kinks.

"And whose fault is that?" she snorted as she bound up his hair deftly. "He wouldn't be yelling if you had gotten up earlier," she said as she pinned the sangtu with a donggot.

"Gah," he spat out the water into the basin as he rinsed his mouth from a small water container. "I'm aching from all the activities yesterday, I only barely manage to avoid the seok-jeon and you know I had to stay up late last night."

"True, averting misfortune is afterall a first concern but still that's no excuse." she scolded, handing him a dry cloth. "So what did you do last night?"

"Aigoo, how can I tell you? Wouldn't that undo the good deed?" he wiped his face dry as he thought of his midnight mission. It was unlikely he was the only one to improve the crossing across the creek. The pathway had broadened noticeably, even in the dark. Come to think of it, he probably should have chosen something easier than shifting new stepping stones on the crossing point on the creek but he could not come up with anything better at the last moment. He wished had for he was aching a little from all that work.

"I know what you did anyway," she smiled at the grimace that crossed his face as he straightened his back. "Get on with you, he's waiting for you," she reminded him as he opened his mouth. Heaving a sigh, he put back the headband, automatically thumbing down the tail end of his tied hair so it would be be held down, pulled on a workshirt over his jeogori and baeja, adjusted his winter tosi, beoseon, fastened the haengjeon and got up reluctantly and went out to the front room where Suk-kwon sat whittling away at a small pine stick in his hand with a small knife, a cloth spread across his lap to catch the wood shavings.

"You are getting lazy, rascal," he said, without looking up as Yunbok settled down at the soban laid out for him. Yunbok did not deign to reply and applied himself diligently to the meal. "Married life agree with you I see," he continued and looked up to see the sardonic look directed at him. "Oh I know how it is, waited hand and foot, you don't have to lift a finger to do anything anymore. Nights must be cozy, you don't have to get up early anymore eh?"

"Master, if you're that envious, why not find yourself a wife?" Yunbok knew why Suk-kwon was in such fine fettle this morning. Ever since he had shown him the plans of the paper compressor, his master had been eager to see a working model and experiment with it. They had made much progress with it that it was almost completed but they needed more wood to finish the last few components. Hence, they had arranged to gather wood this morning and now Suk-kwon was in a huff because he woke up late.

"Believe me, I've considered it," Suk-kwon nodded to Yunbok in mock seriousness, "before but other than the obvious benefits, having a wife is simply a regression to infancy. I don't think I care to have my sleep disturbed, getting nagged at and generally doing somebody else's agenda which I am sure must be sensible but totally immaterial in my own point of view. No peace!" Yunbok jumped at that sudden loud vehement note and glared as Suk-kwon grinned at him.

"Master, you're hopeless, it's a wonder someone did not take your tongue off before now."

"No one has been up to it. What about you?" Sul-kwon cheerfully threw the challenge at Yunbok. It was uncalled for, he knew, his remarks, for he was well aware what Yunbok had been doing last night but he really wanted to see what kind of paper the device would be able to produce. Besides, he always enjoyed teasing his apprentice, getting a bite out him could be interesting at times.

"I'm afraid even if I do, it will still wag at both ends." Yunbok put down his chopsticks, half-wondering if he would be able to finish his breakfast in peace. Perhaps if he simply finish the soup and be done with it.

"You are not leaving until you finish everything," Jeong-hyang said behind him as he reached for the soup bowl. "You are just too thin as it is," she added as she sat down beside him.

"I was not...how did you...," Yunbok began in puzzlement.

"You have a habit of drinking the soup first when you want to leave in a hurry and you ate your favourite morsels which you usually do last," she pointed out. He looked down and realized she was right, he had almost finished up the neureumjeok. "And shame on you master Park, are you planning to drive him to the ground because of your own impatience?" Suk-kwon smiled helplessly at this and held his peace, knowing she was right. Hiding a grin at his master's easy capitulation, Yunbok was able to finish his meal without further interruptions, still bemused that Jeong-hyang had figured out his intentions from his eating habits. Still, they had been together for more than a month now so it was hardly surprising she would make such observations.

Although there was still a chill in the air when they finally made for the hills, it was considerably warmer. The ground was noticeably softer as Suk-kwon tested it with his staff every few steps. Slush had accumulated around their ankles by the time they reached a suitable grove of oak trees. Spring was definitely coming. Shaking off the slush, Yunbok set his jige on the ground as Suk-kwon examined the trees.

"How many parts are we still missing?" Suk-kwon eyed a small specimen. If there were not that many, he would prefer to leave the larger trees alone.

"Just the lever and other small bits, which, I think are not important," said Yunbok as he gently tested the edge of his axe. "But I'd rather not leave them out. I think that will do fine, master," he said when the older man tapped one of the smaller trees.

"Right then. It's slanting a bit in this direction," Suk-kwon pointed where the tree was leaning. "So, here and here," he made slices with his axe on the trunk to mark where they should cut and nodded to Yunbok as they took up opposite positions and began to hack diagonally before making the straight cut in once they had removed more than a quarter of the diagonal cut. The tree slanted even further as Yunbok stepped away, working his shoulders to ease the ache, and Suk-kwon gave it a push. There was a sharp crack, a groan, whipping of branches and a thunderous shaking of the ground as the tree fell, throwing off a shower of broken leaves and branches torn from its neighbours. Without further ado, they set to work, taking breaks now and then to drink from the wooden containers they had brought along. First they removed the branches before dividing up the trunk into smaller sections. The longer, bigger pieces went on Suk-kwon's jige. Branches broken off from the other trees were gathered, making quite a pile which they set aside to be collected later. By the time they got back to the paper mill, it was already well past noon.

Hungry and thirsty, they made short work of lunch before setting to work on the lever. As Suk-kwon measured and shaped a suitable length of wood, Yunbok whittled off the smaller stubs from the branches, storing them in a wooden crate for Suk-kwon who liked to carve interesting miniatures, before stacking the branches in the depleted woodpile, humming a tune under his breath.

"Annyong haseyo!"

The unexpected call was a surprise. The voice sounded familiar however. Yunbok put down his axe and walked round to the empty workyard to see a young man standing there with his horse. It was Young-joon.

"Annyong haseyo, brother Han. What brings you here today?" Yunbok greeted his friend cheerfully.

"I thought I'll find you here, brother Seo," Young-joon's eyes lit up when he saw Yunbok and hesitated. Was his friend losing weight? He turned to his horse and removed a few large packs strapped to the saddle. "I bring gifts," he hefted the packs, grinning as his friendcame up to him.

"Gifts?" echoed Yunbok with curiosity, feeling the pack Young-joon deposited into his arms. It was heavy and there seemed to be several hard flat objects within.

"For the school. Those are byeoru," Young-joon indicated the pack Yunbok was holding. "And these are meoks, pilgas, brushes," he lifted the ones in his hands. "I did say I'll help out with the school didn't I?"

"Indeed! These are much needed supplies, brother Han," Yunbok exclaimed. "Come up to the house for a drink and rest awhile," he invited, pleased that his friend had kept his promise.

"I have something else for you too," Young-joon shifted the packs to one hand, caught hold of the reins and led the horse after him as he followed Yunbok. "Where is master Park?" he looked around for the older man, expecting to see him working somewhere in the workyard.

"Oh, he's at the woodyard, working on the paper compressor," Yunbok held his hand out for the rest of the packs when they reached the house before disappearing within to put them away as Young-joon tied the reins to the fence near the gates and elected to sit at the porch.

"Paper compressor?" he said, fascinated by the name when Yunbok reappeared to sit opposite him.

"It's a machine my father designed," Yunbok used his hands to indicate the size of it. "He came up with a few interesting ideas but the compressor was the only one I ever worked on so I thought I would start with that."

"What does it do?" Young-joon was intrigued, his friend had never talked about his family before so to hear that his father was an inventor of sorts was fascinating. "But .. a moment, I thought your father is a court painter?" Ever since he knew brother Seo was Hyewon Shin Yun-bok, he had tried to find out about his friend's family out of curiosity. As far as he knew, his friend's father, Shin Han-pyeong, was still living in Hanseong, working as a royal court painter at Dohwaseo. There had been no mention that he had ever designed machines however.

"Well...," Yunbok hesitated, he had forgotten Young-joon knew nothing of his background. At that moment, the door opened.

"Master Han," Jeong-hyang greeted politely before she placed a soban with a tea set along with a plate of duteotteok.

"Mistress Im," Young-joon smiled as he returned her greeting. He was pleased to see she was looking so well. "Oh, yes, before I forget. Here," he picked up a small pot beside him and handed it to her. "A gift from my father, brother Seo."

"Your father?" Yunbok said in astonishment. Why would old master Han be giving him a gift?

"Ah..er-," Young-joon coughed. "Er.. well, I know he never said as much but aboji is an admirer of your artworks, you see so he was delighted to have finally met you. And well, he's pleased you got married and all that but he thought you are somewhat frail..er..."

Yunbok wondered why Young-joon was stammering and exchanged puzzled looks with Jeong-hyang who looked down at the pot in her hands. What was in it?

"He just wants to send something to boost your health," Young-joon decided not to explain further and finished abruptly, his friend would find out what it was soon enough.

"Ah-," Yunbok blinked, cocking his head at Jeong-hyang who only looked puzzled but she returned to the house with the pot. "Convey my thanks to your father for the gift," he poured out the sujeonggwa into the bowls and picked up his own. "How goes the relief efforts?"

"We are doing all we can but some farmers have lost cattle as there is not enough feed. Those were slaughtered quickly rather than left to starve and the meat sold. The attempt to plant buckwheat to offset the crop failure has been successful in some areas so the situation is stable at the moment. But those poorer peasants unable to get food have been flooding the other unaffected provinces, creating more problems," Young-joon sighed sadly. "Scores of them had died this past month. Aboji said there are bodies just lying there on the roads," he shuddered as he imagined the horror. "Provincial governors have been told to clear the roads and to get the homeless peasants into camps."

"I have no doubt more died during their attempts to get to food sources," Yunbok rubbed his eyes, wishing the visions conjured up by the news would go away. "We contributed our share of grain two weeks ago. I don't think it is enough though. Haraboji Yoo said an official came by and was told that two-thirds of the barley, millet and sweet potato yields would have to be committed towards relieving the demand in food supply. They are not expecting the affected provinces to be able to recoup this year."

"They must be waiting for spring to affect repairs to the blighted lands," Young-joon said worriedly.

"Frozen grounds are hard to work on," Yunbok agreed. "If the officials are doing their jobs, they would have surveyed and planned out the reconstruction. So instead of planting come spring, the farmers would be put to work on repairs. Harvests will be delayed. How is the situation in Uiryeong?"

"Food prices have increased fourfolds. There is less grain to be had but seafood and meat are readily available. We are also getting more influx of refugees as expected. There are fears of riots over the food rations and the pressure of demands from so many that the militia have been rounding them up and placing them in camps outside the town yesterday. We were all issued with identifying tablets." he brought up his waist cord, showing the second tablet next to the hopae. "I expect you will get yours soon."

"That is unsettling but I suppose it could not be helped, they have to control the situation." Yunbok said unhappily.

"Have there been any refugees coming into the village?"

"Surprisingly, no. I expect they are hampered both by hunger and the difficulty of travel during winter. Haraboji Yoo did mention the militia came by yesterday, I suppose to take away any refugee that might have turned up here. With the advent of spring, they should be appearing." If any should turn up on his doorstep, Yunbok was determined to help rather than chase them away. Even though they were on food rationing themselves.

"Unless they are too weak to move. If they are at the hills, they will be looking for food," Young-joon sighed. "But is it enough?"

Something drastic would have to be done. If there was enough to go around, the starving refugees would be appeased. But not for long. Yunbok understood all too well what it was like to be deprived of food.

"The winter barley, millet and sweet potato should be able to tide most of the refugees for a while. Even porridge from pine needles or flour from the elm tree would be welcomed," he did not notice Young-joon's astonished gaze. "I wonder if they would try to convert some of the unused lands elsewhere into farmlands." he mused, it did not seem very likely to him for it was not easy to modify infertile lands and would take a longer period of time which might not even help with relief efforts.

"That is a thought but I heard the King has ordered landowners to make an effort to contribute at least a third of the grains, I doubt they will comply if there is no enforcement ," Young-joon observed dryly as Yunbok snorted his endorsement of that statement.

He picked up a duteotteok and took a bite. "Singamchae?" he said, identifying the filling that fell onto his tongue at once for the dough was almost paper thin. "Do you have enough to eat, brother Seo?" he stared at the duteotteok. "I ... I didn't think, I shouldn't be cutting into your rations." he was furious with himself for letting the familiarity of dropping in on a friend to lull him into a grievous error. With his other wealthy friends, perhaps he could partake of the refreshment without a second thought but he should not be doing so with Yunbok whom he could see was much thinner.

"We have enough," Yunbok smiled to ease Young-joon's anxiety. "Jeong-hyang's just trying out various fillings for duteotteok. Just eat!"

"I see. But enough of such dismal discussion. Brother Seo, I never heard of your father designing machines before?" Young-joon took a sip from his bowl and returned to the topic they were on before Jeong-hyang's interruption, finding the tteok to his liking. He would bring food on his next visit, he decided, to make up for what he had consumed. It was at such times he wished he was more vigilant and less distracted.

"That's because he isn't my father," Yunbok almost laughed at Young-joon's dumbfounded look. "Shin Han-pyeong is not my father, he's my foster father."

"What? What happened?" shock held Young-joon immobile for a while before he remembered to swallow the mouthful of tteok in his mouth, almost choking himself for he had not masticated it properly. Frantically, he turned away, coughing and thumping himself on the chest before gulping down some sujeonggwa as Yunbok watched him with concern. "I'm all right, what happened?" he gasped when his airway cleared.

"I.. ask you share this with no one?" Yunbok waited for Young-joon's assent before continuing. "I'm sure you are aware of the political intrigues in Hanseong. My father was unfortunate to be caught up in it. Both my parents were assassinated when I was eight years old. Shin Han-pyeong was a friend of my father's and he adopted me when he learnt I survived."

"Brother Seo-," Young-joon said sympathetically, saddened to hear of the tragedy that befall his friend.

"But, I exacted my revenge on my parents' killers five years ago so you can say that is all behind me now."

Young-joon stared at his friend in surprise. "I'm.. I don't know what to say, brother Seo," admiration was evident in his voice. He was impressed his friend had been able to accomplish a task which he was sure must had been difficult and near impossible. "Do you still maintain contact with your foster father?"

"No. He disowned me." And he could not say Shin Han-pyeong was not right not to do so. He was after all responsible for the tragedy in the family.

"What? Why?" Young-joon was flabbergasted to hear that. Surely it was not because of his friend's act of vengence?

"I'm responsible for my foster brother's death." How it hurt still, to think of the day he learnt of Young-bok's demise. To see that still form beneath the shroud, a pale cold face. Gone a beloved companion, gone a brother who had always protected and sheltered him.

"Painter, that is not true." Jeong-hyang's voice broke in, surprising them both. She stood nearby with a basket of dried clothes she had taken in at the courtyard. She had overheard their conversation as she was about to go into the house and was upset to hear Yunbok's statement. "We have been through this before. You did not force him to make the dyes, he chose to do it."

"That is because I asked him for it," Yunbok said firmly. "So I am responsible."

"Yes, you did but your brother was not a novice who did not know the dangers of making the dyes. His master would surely have warned him of the hazards. How can you take up all the responsibility yourself when he must have known exactly what he was doing?" she said forcefully, wishing he would just acknowledge this point. It had been the focus of their contention when she came to know the reason for his foster brother's death.

"He would not have made that decision if I did not encourage him, so the fault is mine."

"Painter!"

Worriedly, Young-joon looked at one to the other as they glared at each other. He was sorry he had brought up the subject of his friend's father which led to the foster brother. An extremely touchy issue by all counts. If it caused discord between the two, he was as much to blame. "Er... so your father designed the paper compressor?" he said calmly, hoping to divert them.

Heaving a sigh of exasperation when Yunbok looked away, Jeong-hyang continued on to the house. It was so difficult to change his viewpoint, she was not sure she could convince him at all. He seemed set on carrying that burden for the rest of his life in the wrong way.

"Yes, he did," Yunbok swirled the fruit punch in his bowl. Pushing away his unhappy thoughts, he set it down on the table. "Do you want to take a look at it?"

"By all means," Young-joon was glad to be moving away from the tension of a moment ago, the further the better, he felt.

"I'll just put this back in the kitchen," Yunbok picked up the soban and walked along the porch to the kitchen door. He hesitated a moment before he entered, unwilling to face Jeong-hyang while the residue of anger was still burning within. But it was Ae-young, much to his relief, who looked at him searchingly for she heard the argument. He handed her the soban before rejoining Young-joon and they made their way to the woodyard.

Hearing the sound of footsteps, Suk-kwon looked up and waved at Young-joon in greeting before returning to his task. Young-joon examined the paper compressor with great interest, listening carefully as Yunbok showed him the sketch in his father's manuscript. It looked somewhat like a printing machine except that there were two flat wooden boards facing each other instead of a letter press at the bottom. Before long, Suk-kwon joined them with the finished lever which was affixed next to a wheel at the side. After a couple of experimental adjustments of rope tension, Yunbok fished out a damp piece of paper he had prepared and laid it out flat on the lower board. Carefully, he brushed a thin layer of glue over it before adding another piece of paper on top. The wheel lowered the upper board until it met the bottom whereupon he used the lever to press the two together. When the boards were separated, they bent to examine the result which was not much. They would have to wait for the paper to dry which Yunbok drapped on a drying line.

As they examined the manuscript further, the debate began to heat up as they tried to come up with the plausible ways to use the compressor. Suk-kwon thought it might reduced the amount of paper used to buffer up chest armor against arrows. Of course, it would not hold up against rifles but soldiers were generally not facing bandits or criminals brandishing such weapons. Young-joon ventured to suggest that it would be better to use it to cover windows and doors, The usual paper was generally very durable but by bad weather or accidents would render it useless. Thicker paper might withstand such onslaughts. Yunbok thought fans, bindings and book covers were the more plausible answer. Perhaps tents that were more durable? Winter coat linings?

* * *

Korean Words

_byeoru - ink stones_

_donggot - hairpin for men_

_duteotteok - rice cake with fillings_

_haengjeon - gaiters tied on mid-calf_

_manggeon - headband_

_meok - solidfied pieces of ink_

_nampyon - husband_

_pilga - holder for wet brushes_

_sangtu - topknot_

_singamchae - angelica sprouts_


	2. Chapter 2

They tossed ideas back and forth, so absorbed were they that they did not notice it was dusk until Ae-young came to tell them dinner was ready. The paper was not dry yet when they checked so Suk-kwon weighed it down with a stone to prevent it from being blown off. Much to Yunbok's dismay, Jeong-hyang was nowhere to be seen when they returned to the house. He exchanged a look with Young-joon who commiserated with his unhappiness.

"Ae-young, where is...," Yunbok said when she brought in the large soban and set up a ttukbaegi on the brazier, in which a soybean stew was bubbling.

"She went to bed early," she said quickly before he finished his sentence. "She said she's not feeling well so she hoped you'll excuse her." Although she did not know what was going on, she had heard a little of their disagreement earlier and she was sure her mistress was upset with master Seo and had elected to show it in this manner. She hoped it was a minor clash for it would distress her should they have a fallout.

"Is something wrong?" Suk-kwon said, noting Yunbok's gloomy face.

"It's nothing," Yunbok mumbled, thumping his spoon in his rice bowl as Young-joon looked on. He did not much envy what his friend would be facing later. The worst he could think of was an enraged spouse on the warpath though he did not think Jeong-hyang was at that stage but still, it would not be pleasant.

"Well, eat up. You know how she's always worried you're too thin," Suk-kwon said genially. Something was up between the two, Young-joon had a concerned look and his apprentice was looking so dejected they must have quarelled earlier. Funny, what did the two not see eye to eye? He did not think it was possible but then it was still early days for them yet. "Look," he said as Yunbok continued to pick at his food. "You don't want to talk about it, fine. But you aren't going to solve it on an empty stomach. No soldier ever survive his first battle feeling hungry. It's depressing enough to know the whiplash would be descending so why not go out on a full stomach?" Silence.

"What?" he enquired when two pair of eyes looked blankly at him.

"Since you have much experience, master, perhaps you would like to take my place on this battlefield, I'll certainly like to sit it out and see how you handle it," Yunbok said dryly as Young-joon chortled.

"As much as I would like to take up that offer... she's not my wife," Suk-kwon grinned evily at Yunbok. "Women!" he gave an exaggerated shudder as Yunbok shook his head in as much with wry resignation as annoyance with Suk-kwon for that dig at him.

"Ah, brother Seo, not to worry." Young-joon said jovially as he recollected what he had heard from his married friends. "Women may get upset but they're bound to obey their husbands, though they always find ways to make their displeasure known, or so I heard. However, they are easily appeased if gifts are presented to them."

"Really..," Yunbok struggled not to laugh at the judicious advice that was offered as Suk-kwon looked away.

"Really! I heard this from friends," Young-joon said seriously and then winked at Yunbok."If those fail, there's always the last resort. When you are given permission to, oh but I forget, you don't live with your parents. In any case, when you go to her, just..," he whispered in Yunbok's ear and jumped when his friend choked and spluttered on a mouthful of rice.

"Is that wrong?" he said bewildered. "My friends said that's how you get them to respond in bed. What?" he frowned as Suk-kwon coughed as his sujeonggwa went down the wrong way. "That is actually the best way to settle a quarrel, isn't it?" he looked at them in bewilderment when they both turned away in fits of coughing. "Though I heard that leaving them alone would work as well, sometimes."

"When are classes due to start?" Suk-kwon asked hastily once he recovered, to forestall any more suggestions from Young-joon.

"Around..er herm," Yunbok took a sip of sujeonggwa to clear his throat, face red from expelling the rice that went up his nose. "Well, several days from now." The older man was well aware of when he usually started his classes and he was grateful for any excuse to distract Young-joon.

Young-joon's ears pricked up when he heard the answer. "Brother Seo, would you need an assistant?"

"An assistant?" Yunbok thought about it. Having someone to help out would be a good idea.

"If you don't mind having me," Young-joon grinned at Yunbok's astonishment. "I'd like to contribute more than materials to the school. My father approved of it so I can come down every alternate day if that is fine with you."

"That is indeed a splendid idea, brother Han. Look, we can go over the curriculum I planned tomorrow if you like," Yunbok said eagerly, mentally running over the subjects he had prepared for the year.

"Then I think master Han, you have better stay the night. It will save you the trouble of having to return on another day to discuss it," Suk-kwon suggested. "You can stay over at my house."

"The offer is much appreciated, master Suk-kwon," Young-joon accepted the invitation cheerfully.

Temporarily forgetting the problem awaiting him, Yunbok finished his dinner in good spirits. It was only when the other two had left and Ae-young had retired to her room that it came back on him like a weight. Trying to delay as long as possible, he checked that all the doors were locked before fidgetting outside the door to the back room. Maybe she was asleep. Well he could hope and then a pang hit him when he remembered that she probably had not taken any dinner.

Silently, he opened the door and peered in, extending the oil lamp like a shield. She was rolled up in her bedding, her back facing him. Sighing soundlessly, he closed the door behind him, put down the oil lamp and sat down on his bedding she had laid out, as she usually did. He pulled off his beoseon and tossed them aside and regarded that back morosely. He was certain she was not asleep and he doubted he would be able to that night. Their first serious disagreement, he was sure there would be more. How to resolve this now? Silently, he got to his hands and knees and leant over to check whether she was asleep. In the darkness, he could not make out if her eyes were closed and bent closer, peering intently. He jumped when she rolled over.

"I'm not alseep," she said, having felt his breath on her cheek.

"You missed your dinner," he said lamely, not entirely sure of her temper. "Do you want to eat something?"

"Should I?" she said tonelessly.

"What do you mean whether you should? That's a silly question," he said worriedly.

"As silly as your insistence in claiming full responsibility for your brother's death?" she asked, watching his face in the light.

Annoyance rose up in him. "That is an entirely different issue, what has that got to do with your having dinner?" he said, struggling to keep his voice down. He did not particularly want to discuss it any further since she was unhappy over his stance on it.

"I can choose not to eat, what can you do?"

"You...," he took a deep breath, hands clenching into fists.

"If I should die from choosing not to eat, will you claim full responsibility for having sparked the quarrel that led to my death? Knowing that I chose to starve out of my own free will?"

Furious that she picked this method to castigate him, he turned away. Why did she have to harp on this matter? It had nothing to do with her.

"Answer me, will you?" she sat up and looked at that stubborn back, wishing she could shake that obstinacy out of him. Wishing that he was not so blind to the fact that he was letting his guilt and sorrow override good sense, that he was too eager to shoulder all the blame. "Answer me," she said insistently. One way or another, she would get him to face it. She could not allow this matter to rest, it would simply just cropped up again later. "Very well, then," she said when he remained silent. "I will not eat until you give me an answer." She laid back down.

"You can't do this," he rasped, cut to the quick by her plan to starve herself. "I won't let you do this."

"It is my own free will..," she began and gave a start of fright when he turned to her, fury blazing from his eyes as he grasped her shoulders to pull her to her feet. "What are you doing?" she tried to push him away. His reaction was totally unwarranted and unexpected, horribly unlike him.. "Stop it!" His fingers dug painfully into her shoulders as he heaved her out of the bedding.

"I don't care if I have to force you to eat!" His head snapped to the side when she slapped him hard, appalled and more than a little afraid.

"Stop this," she swallowed her tears, wishing she could take back that strike as he stared at her, stunned. "Look at yourself. For six years you have carried this guilt, it has eaten away at you. You failed to come to terms with his death and it's clouding your judgment. Don't you know what it is doing to you? How can you live a full life if you persistently darkened your own soul? Will your brother want you to do this to yourself? Have you ever asked yourself if he would blame you for asking for the dye he made? When he gave you the dye, was he happy or was he angry? What had he ever wished for you? Is this how you want to remember him for the rest of your life?"

"No! No!" he pounded the floor in fury, rejecting her words. "You were not there, you don't know what it was like. He was my brother and I did that to him. If only I had not suggested using the red dye he had created, he would not have become ill by trying to make what I asked of him. I cut short his life with my self-indulgence. It should have been my life that is taken! I am _responsi._..."

"Stop it! Stop!" It was the first time she had ever seen him in a towering rage, that almost berserk look in his eyes. Was this how it was then, when he tried to crush his own hand? Fearful at what he might do to himself, she grabbed hold of him just as he was about to lunge to his feet and out of the room. "I'm sorry, please! Stop!" she pleaded as she struggled to hold him as he fought to tear away. It was an uneven battle for his time at the paper mill had given him a strength beyond her own. "Painter! I beg you!"

The plea got through to him, she knew as he ceased pulling away. The oil lamp flickered out as she held him to her, listening to their combined wheezing as they found their breaths from the struggle. It had festered too long. She tried to hold back her tears as she laid her head on his back. The guilt had taken root and grown out of proportion, how often had he thought about this since he left Hanseong?

Thought about, brooded on, added more layers to it? She was naive to think she could easily dislodge this misconception of his over his foster-brother's death. What could she do? No idea came to mind and yet, she could not allow this to continue. Perhaps if she talked to master Suk-kwon, there might be a solution.

"Will you get me something from the kitchen?" she said as the frantic pound of his heartbeat and his breath steadied in her ear.

"What?" he said, confused for a moment.

"I am hungry, will you get me some food?" she said again, aware that he was still dazed by his rage and wishing to set him back to a more rational frame of mind.

"I... all right," he hesitated, trying to gather his thoughts, automatically taking up the oil lamp before getting up, unerringly finding the door in the darkness.

As she sat waiting in the dark, Jeong-hyang wondered where she should start. In the weeks they had been together, they had slowly begun to know more about each other's background. It was only when she had asked for the story on his near execution back in Hanseong that she came to know more about his foster-brother. They had gotten into a mild argument then, nothing as explosive as tonight. His self-guilt was evident but she had not thought more about it until Young-joon brought it up in the afternoon. A mistake, she conceded. Were there anymore of these past burdens he had hidden from her? She hoped not. A thought struck her; was he hiding something from her in that year of wandering? He had only said he was travelling all the time, selling his paintings to earn money to buy necessities. Was that all?

She looked up as the door opened. Balancing the soban easily with one hand, he placed it before her, setting down the lit oil lamp nearby before returning to the door to close it. Silently, he went to his bedding and sat down, not looking at her as he fingered the quilt. He had taken the time to cook pajeon for her instead of heating up some food, she realized as she looked down at the dish. Surreptitiously wiping away her tears, she finished the food and drink without a word on his utilising rations, putting the soban in a corner when she was done.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said, turning his head away when she returned to her bedding. If she insisted on bringing up the matter, he would sleep outside.

"Then rest," she met his surprised look as he turned back at her statement. Demurring for a moment, he nodded wearily and laid down on his bedding. He gave a start as she laid her fingers on his brow. "Forget everything for the moment," she said softly, seeking to soothe away any residue of agitation, knowing she must helped him get back his equilibrium for the morrow. The touch of her fingers was comforting and he closed his eyes.

"Until the morrow, Painter," she whispered when she saw he had fallen asleep. "No matter how deep the roots are, I will get them out. For your sake, for mine and for your beloved brother." Gently, she kissed his brow before settling into her bedding. It would be a hard battle but she was determined to win.

To Ae-young's Immense surprise, she found Jeong-hyang already at work when she opened the door to the kitchen the next morning. Her mistress seemed preoccupied for she only nodded absently to her greeting. Did the two fail to settle their quarrel? Much as she desired to know the outcome, it was not her place to ask. Stiflling her curiosity, she helped with the preparation of breakfast. Once the soban was set, Jeong-hyang as usual, took a basin and towel to the back room. He was already awake, his bedding and quilt cleared away. His back was to her as he sat at the bookcase, looking down at a brush in his hands, running his fingers over the hairs. She recognized it as the brush his foster brother had even given to him before he was exiled for he had shown it to her before.

"I'm sorry for last night," he said without turning, ashamed of his unbridled frenzy, as she set down the basin. "I-lost my temper. It will not happen again." He supposed he had frightened her too.

"That's a foolish promise," she chided, sitting down. He turned to look at her in astonishment. It was foolish? "Situations will rise beyond our control that we will not be able to check. If you have said you would try to keep a clear mind, to consider carefully before allowing emotions to overwhelm you, that would have been a more reasonable avowal."

"All right then, it shall be as you said," he said wryly, amused witth her precise determination but conceding she had a valid point.

"Tell me something of your brother," she touched him on the shoulder. His face turned blank and he looked away.

"Why?" Reluctance in his voice.

"Why not? I know nothing of him, isn't it time I should understand a little of him?" she said reasonably, hoping he would not reject her request. "Something of your childhood?"

"Young-bok...," he began slowly, uncertain where to begin. Childhood? "We were as any other boys in a household. Getting into mischief, upsetting the adults and getting punished for various misdeeds. Young-bok was always the one to come up with the ideas before I acclimatised to living in the Shin household. Heh, I remembered there was once when we put a pot of rice glue in aboji's byeoru, just to see what he would do when he tried to use it. Of course when he prepared the ink all he got was a mucky sticky mess. He knew it was us of course but we had a laugh watching him try to dilute an impossibly thick pool of ink. We were punished and even then, Young-bok tried to take all the blame...," he smiled as he looked down at the brush in his hands. "That was the way he had always been, making sure I got less of the hand outs meted by father. He did not know then aboji was actually less forceful on me than on him but then, that was aboji's way of.. 'training' him. Young-bok never failed to shield me when he could."

"Were you always together?" Jeong-hyang asked curiously.

"Oh yes, we were. Mostly," Yunbok frowned. "Aboji hired teachers to teach us at home, so even when Young-bok reached fifteen years of age and should be at a hyanggyo, he stayed at home. I think aboji went to great expense to do so. When the chapkwa came round, Young-bok sat for it and he also took the Dohwaseo entrance examination, passed and entered the institution a couple of years before me." How proud he was then, to see Young-bok coming back home after learning the results, beaming with happiness at his success. How they had celebrated thereafter at the party aboji had held.

"Was it always your brother's intention to enter the Dohwaseo?" she asked pointedly as suspicion struck her.

"He had always told me one of us would rise in the ranks in Dohwaseo, to be a royal court painter. It did not matter which of us it would be. Aboji was pleased of course, he had wanted us to follow in his footsteps...," he stopped short. Had Young-bok actually wanted to be a royal court painter at all?

"Surely your father would have asked what he wanted, didn't he?" she put in quickly, afraid she might have made a mis-step.

"I don't know," he frowned as he tried to remember. Han-pyeong had never asked what either of them wanted, or did they themselves just assumed what they would be doing from his exhortations to practise their paintings?

"Still, he told you what he wanted to do, didn't he? Sons have always aspired to their father's vocations, don't they?" she watched him anxiously as he twirled the brush.

"That is the way it is supposed to be. Aboji had a art gallery and we used to watch the painters at work. He said he was going to become a royal court painter and carry on the family tradition when aboji retires," he looked up as voices sounded from the daecheong.

"They're here. Best to wash up," she said, glad of the interruption. She needed time to think, talk to master Suk-kwon and planned carefully. "Here," she placed the basin and towel before him. "What are you going to do today?"

"Oh, Young-joon volunteered to assist me at the school so I'll be going over the curriculum with him. I didn't finish restocking the woodpile so I'll do it later," he did not see the look of anticipation that flitted across her face as he washed his face. Once he was done with his ablution, she brought away the basin and towel out of the room. If he was going to be occupied with Young-joon, she would be able to talk to master Suk-kwon undisturbed. However, she would not know how long they would take. If only he could be sufficiently distracted. Quickly, once she closed the door behind her, she made a beeline for Young-joon and Suk-kwon who looked up as she approached.

"Master Han, I need a favor," she said softly, involuntarily looking over her shoulder.

"What is it?" Young-joon was surprise by her furtiveness. What was there to hide?

"I know you are going to discuss the curriculum with painter," she shook herself. He was right, she could not get rid of the habit of calling him painter, she really would have to do something about it.

"Yes?" Young-joon said in bewilderment.

"Can you keep him occupy as long as possible? Master Suk-kwon, I need to speak to you while they are engrossed in the discussion."

"All right, but what is...," Suk-kwon began but Jeong-hyang only shook her head and vanished quickly into the kitchen before Yunbok come out of the room, leaving the two men to wonder worriedly what was going on. They eyed Yunbok keenly but there did not seem to be anything untoward. When the women brought in the soban, everything appeared normal. Once breakfast was over, Young-joon launched into questions about the school once the table was cleared away, leaving Suk-kwon to excuse himsef. Quickly, he exited the house and waited outside the kitchen door. Before long, Jeong-hyang appeared with a basket of clothes.

"Let's go down to the creek," he said and led the way, picking up a couple of buckets from the workyard. "So what happened?" he said once they arrived.

"Master Park, did painter..," she stopped to organise her thoughts. "Did he ever talk to you about his brother?"

"As a matter of fact, no," he said with some surprise. "I know he had a brother. He was keeping his identity a secret, even from me, ever since he arrived so there was no reason for him to tell me other than what was necessary of his family. It was only because of the incident last winter that he realized I know who he is but even then, he does not say much. Is there a problem concering the brother? I thought he had passed away due to an accident?"

"You know as much?" If he knew all the details regarding the accident, she need not waste too much time explaining it.

"I was given the details of his family once I was given the task of protecting him."

"I see. I am going to need your help...," concisely, she told him about Yunbok's history with Young-bok and what had occurred before and the quarrel. "I'm not sure how I can help him understand that it's not entirely his fault."

"What have you done so far?" he asked, disturbed to hear that Yunbok had a mental wound festering within.

"I tried to get him to talk about his brother earlier, before you came. Their childhood days. They have always been together, schooled at home. He said his father went to great expense to do that. His brother sat for the chapkwaand the Dohwaseo entrance exams and passed."

"Their bond must have been strong then, not surprising, given their isolation. Otherwise, it will not have such a deep impact on him," Suk-kwon rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "The brother took such a risk for him, making the dyes... I wonder, if the brother did not harbor other than brotherly feelings for him?"

"That...," she paused as she considered. "Yes, I believe the brother might have. It is possible. Would it not be the same for him?"

"But did he know?" he shook his head at her perplexed frown. "Raised the way he was, he would not have realized exactly what it was he felt. He could have mistaken it for brotherly affections."

Would Yunbok be as befuddled as that? It seemed improbable to her until she considered that he had suffered self denial and restrictions of his real identity from the very moment he was adopted. But was that the only thing that was affecting him?

"There is one other thing to ponder as well. Granted, the bond between them had dealt him a blow but I am wondering, if the year he spent wandering alone out there might have intensified the guilt beyond the normal aspect? Master Park, when you found him, how was he like?" she asked anxiously, feeling it was important. She should not have taken his word for it that it had been the usual course of hardship suffered by the homeless.

"That...," Suk-kwon sighed, putting down the buckets he had been holding all the while, distracted by the problem presented to him. He sat down on a rock and gestured for her to do the same. "He looked worst than he does now, even thinner, hollows in his eyes and cheeks. A scarecrow would have been frightened off by him. His clothing was threadbare and his shoes were falling apart. It took him an unusually long time to recover from that dislocated ankle although I am sure he did not realize it. The fear and despair in him was palpable. Every sound around him seemed to portent danger. He tried to hide it but...," he shook his head.

"Look, don't cry. How are you going to explain your red eyes to him when you see him later?" he chided gently. Hearing that, she tried to calm herself. "I took extreme care to let him understand he could trust me which he eventually did. I really do not know how he managed to survive for a year, alone. Stubborness? No doubt he has a strong will but even then, it almost broke. Given what you have just told me, I am sure he must have also spent the year reflecting on his past actions, too much as it is. Being alone also does not help at all," he heaved another sigh.

"He should have tried to find a place to settle down. Why didn't he?" she wiped another tear from her eyes. "If he had volunteered to teach at some village school, I'm sure he would have been offered a place to stay."

"How old was he then? Eighteen when everything seemed to happen at once, did it not? Kept in isolation with his foster brother, what did he know of politics? Or the dangers of the outside world? Is it surprising that everything seemed to fall apart for him? Brother banished for something he did, gained status as royal painter," Suk-kwon ticked off the points on his fingers. "apprenticed to Master Danwon, chosen to paint the royal portrait, lost his brother, disowned by his foster father, almost executed, took revenge on that merchant. Lastly and most importantly, to be chased after by you know who. Knowing if he was caught, it is the end for him and just about everyone else who had sheltered him. Especially a certain someone. How could he settle down? With so much on his shoulders, he would have only wanted to get away. To prevent disaster falling on those who protected him. So he ran but he did not know when to stop running. Nor was he able to take care of himself although he tried his best but his guilt simply bore him down."

"What can we do, master Suk-kwon? He cannot continue to carry this disproportionate millstone with him for the rest of his life." she said in despair.

"If...," he said slowly, feeling his way about, not certain he would give the best advice. "That quarrel yesterday, you tried to talk sense into him and failed, right?"

"Yes, he simply.. he was in a rage. I think it is this helpless rage that drove him to hurt himself back in Hanseong. But this time, I fear it is out of control and I was afraid he would really see an end to himself but I was able to calm him down."

"Then the direct way is the wrong way. I think you should continue to do what you did this morning. Get him to talk about his brother. You are right to surmise that he should not be associating his brother with his action that led to his death. Encourage him to think of the happier times they had. You should also prepare yourself, for I do not think he will sort out this entangled web he had weaved himelf into quickly. It will take time and patience. His foster father had really done him no favors," Suk-kwon muttered angrily, wishing he could throttle the man with his bare hands.

"By doing such a thing to him, it also left him feeling he was not wholly in control of his life. Even though he had left that man's household, still, he feels he is lacking and is not confident of himself after all these years. That is why his rage is untamed for it is also an expression of his helplessness. You are also right to suspect his year of wandering had some effect in his inability to deal with his guilt. Things just kept piling up, especially just when he needed help most of all from the family only to find he was not wanted and was sold off without his knowledge," Suk-kwon fought to swallow the bitterness and anger. It was just as well he was not in Hanseong, if he was, perhaps he would have marched to the Shin household and given that man the whipping he truly deserved.

"I understand, master Suk-kwon," she nodded her head in agreement with his assessment. The healing process was a long term goal but as long as Yunbok see the light at the end, she was determined to persevere at it.

"Another thing. Try not to override him when it comes to decisions that may affect the household," he smiled at her incomprehension. "Thus far, he has been under my wing so he sees me as having the last word on most things. I have been trying to push him forward subtly but there has been few chances for that. It had all been tiny steps; the seodang for one, taking the chance to reach out to make a friend. I gave him the choice of facing down the opposition last year and he had done it. That was a big step but he took a bigger one by choosing you. Now, with you and Ae-young, this is the best opportunity to truly make him feel he is in control of his life. Let him make the final decision. I don't know what it might be, nor how is the arrangement between the two of you but if he ever decide on something you might not agree with, let it go if you can live with it."

She was astonished at this piece of advice but comprehended his message. "I understand. Indeed, it should be he who decides."

"I will tell Young-joon not to bring up the brother's death. If it occurs again, to try to direct it to something else," Suk-kwon got up, picking up the two buckets to fill them with water. "Ae-young's coming to help you with the clothes," he added over his shoulder. "And we have been out here long enough as it is, I don't think Young-joon can hold out for long."

Feeling more optimistic now that she had a solution to Yunbok's problem, Jeong-hyang dried her eyes and smiled to assure Ae-young when she looked anxious, for she noticed she had been crying. Suk-kwon made his way up the path with the buckets of water, leaving the women to do the laundry. As he approached the workyard, he spotted Yunbok and Young-joon examining the paper that was made the day before. He joined them as they perused the paper, feeling the texture, thickness and holding it up to the light. More should be made and tested out, they felt so they made their way to the compressor. They took turns to work the lever. Yunbok found it amusing that Young-joon did not find it amiss to be working manually, rather he seemed to be enjoying it. Perhaps rustic life appealed to him as well. By the time they were called in for lunch, several samples were already laid out to dry.

Unable to get Young-joon aside for a moment, Suk-kwon decided he would have to talk to the young man some other day even as Young-joon tried to figure out what was the problem besetting his friend that Jeong-hyang had to go behind his back. Perhaps they were still a little disconcerted with their first disagreement. He wondered if he would be facing the same problem himself once he started his own family. But would he find anyone he could relate to? Bethrothed couples tend to be strangers to each other. If the fates were kind, affections would develop. If not, it was as good as living with an amiable acquaintance. He did not want to live like that with someone, stranger and yet not.

Young-joon took his leave after lunch. Eight days hence, he would be at the school, he promised as he waved farewell to Yunbok before riding away. Just as Yunbok turned away to head to the woodyard, he saw Jeong-hyang beckoning to him from the kitchen door.

"I think you will want to see this," she said as he approached.

"See what?" he asked curiously as she proffered a small pot towards him. It was the gift from old master Han. He looked into it, puzzled. It was filled with a dark soup with herbs floating on top. "What?" he said in confusion as he sniffed at it. "It's just herbal soup. What's wrong with it?"

"It's not," she was trying not to laugh, he realized, as she handed him a spoon. "I mean it is but look at the ingredients."

"What is this?" he fished out a slightly oval round globe. It did not look like any fruit or vegetable he knew of, it looked more organic since there were faint lines of veins visible on it. "Well, what?" he said bewildered as she shook with merriment. He almost could not make out what she whispered into his ear and then dropped the spoon into the pot hurriedly once he understood. "I'm not eating that!" he spluttered, eyeing the pot with horror before the humor of it struck him and he laughed uproariously, leaning against the wall of the house helplessly. "What are you going to do with it?" he coughed, wiping away his tears.

"Give it to master Park?" she cleared her throat.

"I don't think he'll want it either," he choked again as he imagined Suk-kwon's expression. It was just as well his master had gone to collect the piles of pine wood they had left behind the day before and was not around to overhear this.

"Not if I slice them up," she suggested, eyes twinkling mischievously.

"I suppose we can test it on him...," he shrugged at the mock frown she gave him. "If it's really that good an aphrodisiac as old master Han thinks, I suppose ..."

"What do you suppose would happen to him?" she held in the laughter she could feel building up again.

"I guess we'll find out soon enough," he grinned at her, pleased they were both in harmony again and hoped the subject of the quarrel would not be brought up again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Gyeongchip 1782**

"Careful, it's a little steep here," Yunbok warned as he turned to give Jeong-hyang a hand in climbing up the slope and then offered Ae-young his staff to hold on to as she stumbled over an unseen rock. He made a face at Suk-kwon as the grinning older man proffered his hand. Chuckling good-naturedly, Suk-kwon made up the slope with hardly any difficulty and followed as the trio continued up the trail and promptly broke into song.

_Take off your loads, old man_  
_and allow me to carry them ;_  
_For a young man like me,_  
_stones can't be too heavy ;_  
_Old age being a rueful burden,_  
_how can you bear more loads?_

"Master, are you lamenting your age?" Yunbok grinned impishly, earning a glare in return.

"And what age do you think I was lamenting about?"

"With you, master, it depends on your mood!"

"No bickering, it's too nice a day to spent any time on it," Jeong-hyang said quietly, stopping whatever Suk-kwon was about to say. Yunbok could not help but snickered at the dumbfounded expression on his face.

The day was pleasantly mild, the chill of winter having vanished with the advent of spring. New greens had already begun to sprout. Flowers with visibly colouring stalks added their hue to the wildening spread of life renewal spreading everywhere. Birds flitted, their calls weaving with the sights of spring. As they walked along the trail, they kept their eyes open for greens and medicinal herbs like mugwort, wild lettuce, shepherd's purse they could harvest, tossing whatever they acquired into the baskets each was carrying.

Occasionally, Suk-kwon would make a foray to a grove of mulberry trees, calling Yunbok over if he found suitable specimens that were ready for paper processing for that year so the location and the number of trees could be recorded. The sun was near zenith when they reached a wide open slope. A good place to rest. Sitting under the shades of trees, they nibbled at the snacks they brought. From where they sat, they could see the village below them, Uiryeong and beyond. The villagers were but tiny figures, busy at their houses and fields; rebuilding the courtyard walls and field walls with mud and stones, patching up as well as repapering the windows of the houses while farmers examined the new shoots of winter barley and fertlizing the fields with ash. Even more tiny were the children, hardly visible at that distance as they went about their chores.

"I think I see something down there," Suk-kwon said suddenly, pointing to the slope below them.

"What?" Ae-young scrutinized the area curiously, trying to spot what he saw.

"Ah! I see it!" Up he bounded, running down to catch whatever it was he had see., Ae-young followed after, avid to know what he was chasing as the other two looked on in amusement, content to let the two chase whatever it was.

If she had been at the gibang now, she would simply had the windows and doors of her small house repapered, not out here in the hills, walking and enjoying the sights of spring around her, be with the people she loved. Between then and now, Jeong-hyang felt her old life was just mundane and dull. Life might have been easier but less happy. "I never imagine I would be here like this," she murmured.

Yunbok paused as he sipped water from a small wooden container, his eyes on Ae-young and Suk-kwon a little way down the slope, searching among the small new blooms and grasses. "What was it that you envisioned before?" he asked curiously, capping the container.

"Living as I was till I grow old," she said, lips twisted wryly as she recalled what she had planned.

"Is that all? Surely not," he said reprovingly. Was that what she had planned all along when she left Hanseong? Or after?

"What did you imagine I would have in mind?" she cocked her head at him.

"l was thinking...," he started and stopped. "You know what I thought you would do."

"But I didn't," she fingered a tiny leaf of grass at her feet. "I already knew I could not, not long after I settled in Uiryeong so I decided I would save and set up a jumak once I have enough money."

"What? Run a jumak?" The idea of her as a tavern-keeper was so incongruous that he looked at her in amazement.

"But that is the alternative plan most gisaeng go for," she said soberly. "If they are unable to achieve the goal of becoming a concubine, that is the only practicable choice left."

"Ah! That's why most tavern-keepers I come across are women, I see. I didn't realize they were former gisaeng," he nodded at that revelation. "Are you disappointed you won't be running a jumak?" he grinned at her.

"I think I should have kept to my plan. Running and picking up after you is not what I have in mind," she laughed at his mock glare.

"Just say the word, I can easily do the house chores," he sniffed, thinking of the times he had to maintain both his and master Suk-kwon's house.

"And scandalize Ae-young? Imagine what she will say if she sees you with the laundry."

"You are really too conventional. Master Danwon and I did the laundry when we were at Dohwaseo."

"Really? And why were the two of you handling laundry instead of painting?"

"What did it matter?" he waved his hand airily, not inclined to reveal that everyone was punished for something he did. Again.

"I can guess." It was all too easy to figure out the reason. "It must be one of your paintings. Were you punished for it?" she poked at him. "When has it never landed you in deep soup?"

"Really, that's unfair," he protested, trying to grab her hand but she pulled away. "I can't help it when people went to the extreme when they become offended with something of mine that they don't agree with. It didn't help at all they were powerful enough to vent their spleen on us."

"Your skill must be really bad then, for them to criticize so," she yelped as he turned to tickle her.

"Unskill am I?" he mock scowled as she tried to keep his hands away, her cheoneui falling off her head as she turned and curled up even as he leaned over her. Laughter died away as they looked at each other. Simultaneously, they remembered the night when she had offered herself to him. He had hesitated then in confusion, not knowing how to answer her even as he wanted to fulfill her wish. She had not known his secret then but even now, the feelings had not changed. How odd, she reached out to touch his face, lightly touching his eyebrows, nose, cheeks... mentally, she shook herself.

"Did you ever make such trips to the hills when you were a child?" she tapped his nose. "My father would usually declare a day of freedom for the troupe when spring arrived and we would all go to the hills outside whichever town we were at, to do as we would."

"Yes, we did," he blinked at the switch of her mood and turned to look down the slope as she sat up. "Omonim would bring the household of servants to gather herbs, aboji would usually take the opportunity to expound further on painting landscapes. But we paid him no mind, really, we were too young and too busy chasing each other around the fields. Heh, omoni tried to stop us from trampling the plants by getting us to help with the gathering but she gave that up as a bad idea when we ended up collecting the wrong types of plants, worms, beetles and what nots," he laughed as he recalled the look of horror and exasperation on his foster mother's face when he and Young-bok showed her what they had in their baskets. "We ended up picking up more dirt on ourselves too," he smiled at the memories, unaware she was observing him minutely. "What was it like for you?"

"Oh the fun only came later after all the herb pickings were done because we would have a celebratory picnic and games for everyone," she smiled as she recalled those days. "During summer, ajoshi Heo would use the grasses to fold grasshoppers and crickets for us younger ones. He always made us laugh with his tricks, clowning and the games he played with us amongst the flowers."

"You missed them, don't you?" he said sympathetically, hearing the wistful note in her voice. "Your childhood playmates, the troupe, your father. Have you ever thought of looking for them?"

"I do miss them but no, there is no point looking for them," she sat up, brushing off the bits of grass sticking to her. "If I happen to come across any of the troupe, I would be glad of the reunion but I feel that I should get on with my life rather than expend time and effort in locating them."

"What happens if your father should turn up one day?" he asked curiously.

"I would greet him with open arms," she said musingly as she imagined the scenario he conjured up with that question. It had been so many years, she was not sure she would recognize her father if he were to appear before her.

A shout draw their attention. They looked to see where it came from and saw Suk-kwon seemingly running in circles in the field of the slope below, with Ae-young doing what looked like a warding movement with her arms. Were they engaged in a game of catch? At their age?

"Rascal, come down here and help out!" Suk-kwon shouted, as he made a dove and got up to chase after something darting through the grasses. Each time it tried to break away, Ae-young was there to send it back towards Suk-kwon.

"What are you doing?" Yunbok said as he hurried down with Jeong-hyang.

"Rabbit!" Suk-kwon made another dive. "It'll make a fine meal."

That certainly explained his wild rampages across the field. Yunbok stood still, trying to spot the rabbit, surprised that Suk-kwon wanted to make a meal of it. Rabbit was certainly not the usual meat on the table, though the villagers reared several of them for food. The usual fare was pork, beef, fowls, pheasants, fish and dried seafood. Or game birds during the hunting season. Did his master really want rabbit for dinner? It seemed like too much trouble to chase after one when he could have traded for one from the villagers. There was a flash of brown to his right. By rights, the rabbit should have made a break for it since the encirclement was not complete. Something was keeping it within the area.

"Master, try to herd it towards me," he called, pointing to his right as he handed his basket and staff to Jeong-hyang to hold.

"Easier said than done!" Suk-kwon huffed, feeling that Yunbok ought to be the one doing the herding but he was having too much fun with the hunt. Beating at the ground with his staff, he succeded in directing the animal to run in Yunbok's direction. He saw it coming and dove for it as it veered away when it saw him. Jeong-hyang uttered a little yelp as it ran under her chima. Yunbok started to go around her, thinking it had gone on but there was no sign of it.

"Where is it?" Suk-kwon said, as he looked around, trying to spot it.

"I don't know," Yunbok replied, puzzled, his head turning here and there even as Jeong-hyang and Ae-young glanced around. "Hyangya, will you walk away for a while?" he said as an idea struck him as he looked down at her feet. Following his gaze, she came to the same conclusion and retreated a few steps. "Run a little," he urged, his sharp eyes having spotted a tuft of fur at the edge of her chima. She complied but the rabbit seemed to sense what she intended and followed. "Well, there's no help for it," he said grinning, reaching for her chima.

"No, you dont!" she skipped away as Ae-young clapped her hands to her mouth to hide her giggles.

"All right then, you do it or that rabbit will follow you all the way home under your skirt," he laughed when she made a face and then lifted her chima to her ankles to reveal the rabbit, washing its face at her feet. It tried to dart away but Yunbok lunged forward before it got too far.

"Did you get it?" Suk-kwon panted as he jogged towards Yun-bok, of whom he could see lying on his front on the ground. "Don't tell me you didn't get it!" he bent over, puffing with exertion. Yun-bok turned over, lifted his hand to reveal a wriggling rabbit caught by the scuff of its neck. "Ah! That's a good catch!"

"You're really going to eat it, master?" Yunbok said dubiously as he got up, eyeing the rabbit which ceased to struggle as if it knew its doom. Its fur was a light brown, with faint patches of white that were remnants of its winter coat, almost indiscernible if it were to hide among the grasses.

"I think it's too cruel to do that," Ae-young looked as if she would burst into tears as she joined them.

"You really think so?" Suk-kwon plucked the quiescent rabbit from Yunbok's hand. The only movement were its twitching ears and blinking eyes.

"You could contribute it towards the famine relief efforts," Yunbok suggested helpfully. "Though it will only fill a few bellies."

"And incur the ire of the rest of the hungry people standing around looking on as the lucky few have this delicacy? What do you think I am?" Suk-kwon glared at the rabbit as if offended by its size. "Ah well," he sighed, bending down to release the rabbit which vanished quickly.

"After all that effort," Yunbok lamented. "Why did you let it go? Has a woman's tears moved you?" he grinned and dodged as a swipe came at him.

"Firstly, its meat will be tough after such a chase," Suk-kwon declared and nodded in empahsis at their surprise. "Secondly...I need peace." he glared when they turned away to hide their amusement. "I guess we're done with our herb gathering expedition? We have better go back."

As they headed back down the hill, Yunbok remembered the flowers he had picked and fished them out of the basket. Though not in full bloom, the colours were beautiful. Blowing at the end of the stems to get rid of any debris, he tugged at Jeong-hyang so she would stop moving, to slot them in her hair under the cheoneui as she stopped in surprise. It was just as well she was no longer wearing a gache. It was easier to embellish her, he felt.

"There, now you looked more beautiful," he declared as she put up a hand to feel the flowers. Catching her hand with one of his own, they walked down the trail. "Young-joon and I are going to run some errands in town tomorrow. Do you need anything?"

"What are you getting?"

"More books. There are probably new editions to replace the old. The Cheonjamun we are using now is so worn he thought it should be replaced."

"I have something in mind I want to do," she said, thinking it was time she told him what she intended.

"What is it?" he looked at her, curious to know what she was planning.

"I want to hold classes for the girls in the village."

"Ah!" he nodded approvingly. "How long have you been considering it?"

"When I heard about the school you've opened," she pulled up the straps of the basket to secure them more firmly on her shoulder. "With the exception of those born to wealthy and noble families, most women received so little schooling. The gisaeng received an education equal to that of a yangban. The primary intention behind such an honor is that high class men prefer intelligent high quality entertainment to substandard fare, especially those of the first grade. It is ironic, isn't it? Gisaeng are the most inferior in class status and yet we are given an exclusive education and freedom that not even noble women can match."

"What kind of training do gisaeng received?" he asked, vastly intrigued.

"Besides the use of musical instruments, dancing and sijo recitations?" she dimpled at him. "Reading, writing. We touched on the classics as well as learning the social stratum of the government. We also learned medicine."

"That is indeed an extensive scope," he was impressed. "How long did you receive this training?"

"Aboji sold me to the gibang when I was eight. That is the usual age of recruitment. I was sent to the training institution and started formal work around sixteen."

"That young?" he blinked, astonished. "Did he tell you the reason why he had to do such a thing?"

"He said it was to save the troupe. With the money, there was a chance they would stay together. I do not know if he was successful because he never tried to see me or send me a letter." Not wishing to dwell on it, she switched topics. "As to when we start plying our trade, it's the usual practice," she said as she thought back to the day she begun her vocation. "For the new comers, they blended us in among the more experienced gisaeng so we could learn from them and acclimatised us to the medium of our work."

"How long have you been entertaining before I met you?"

"Three years."

"You must have seen and heard much then." Three years in which she spent providing entertainment to men. A thought struck him. "Surely-there would be men who were interested in pursuing you?" he cocked his head at her. "Why..."

"Didn't I pick one?" she interjected. "First grade gisaeng are not supposed to have any liaisons but there's no such strict adherence to the rule if both parties are discreet or if the other is powerful and rich enough to still the tongue of the madam. But sometimes if the eye is discerning enough to gauge the value of a haengsu gisaeng, such liaison is not encouraged."

"As it was with you," he said and she smiled sadly.

"Quite a few tried to get my attention, they listened to my songs but were deaf. Praises they were lavish with but they were empty in meaning. Generous in gifts but utterly worthless, I took their monetary payment for what it was, as a means to ensure my living well. They were interested in the one thing I was not inclined to give so, I chose none."

Until he blundered into her at the cloth shop and then again that night at the gibang.

"My, I didn't know I made such a paramount impact in your life," he teased. "Ow!" he yelped when she pinched him in the side.

"So I made a mistake and whose fault is it?"

"I should have pretended to be blind and deaf," he lamented as he caught hold of her wrist to stop her attacks. "No, I should have offered less than five nyang to you and behaved like a boor, like my classmates, that would definitely turn you away," he smiled into her eyes.

"... perhaps not, you are forgetting something," she whispered.

"What is that?" he leant closer.

Further down the trail, Ae-young looked around when she realized she did not hear any footsteps behind her. Where were master Seo and her mistress? She looked at Suk-kwon's back before retracing her steps. As she rounded the bend of the trail, she spotted them standing at the steep slope. Hurriedly, she retreated and caught up to Suk-kwon just as he came to the same realization.

"Where are...," he began to ask when he saw her.

"They're .. busy ... harvesting some plants they found," Ae-young stammered, hoping master Suk-kwon would not go back up the trail. "They'll be along soon, let's go, let's go," she waved her hands at him to exhort him go on. Her insistence that they continued on was puzzling. What were they up to? He hesitated for a moment before moving down the trail, to her relief. Flashing a quick look behind her, she hid a grin and hoped they would not forget where they were.

How long they stood there, holding on to each other, they had no idea. Gently she pushed him away and they stared at each other.

"Shall we go?" she said uncomfortably, breaking the silence.

"Er..yes," he said hesitatingly, not exactly sure what they were talking about.

"Don't," she reached out to clasp his face in her hands, seeking to halt the confused inward retreat she could see in his eyes, "there is nothing to turn away from." She wondered if she would be able to help him heal the wounds within. "We have better get back home. They might think something has happened to us," she returned his shy smile when she released his face.

"Wouldn't they have done so by now?" he said as he caught hold of her hand again, setting off down the trail. "I will inform haraboji Yoo of your intentions and seek his approval. He can inform the rest of the villagers and take down the names of those who are interested."

"What if they are not keen in the idea?"

"They will be if we tell them the advantages, with emphasis on medical knowledge," he said confidently. "You're going to need materials. I'm not sure if haraboji Yoo will call for a gye for the girls." He was certain the village chief won't.

"It will have to be halmoni Nam. The women will have to get together to see what can be done but if you will give me the old Cheonjamun you intend to replace with the new, it will go far in saving the money we have to come up with. That includes any old writing tools and so forth," she said. "I will like to go to town with you and Young-joon tomorrow. I have other items I wish to buy."

"Young-joon will not mind providing for the girls, I should think," he said, pleased that she had prudently given much thought to her plan and that they would be visiting the town together. There was not an opportunity to do so since they began their life together. "Where will you hold the class if it goes ahead?"

"I do not think haraboji Yoo would specially put aside a place for the girls, unlike the seodang. It will be at our house."

"What?" he stopped short, astonished. "Isn't it too small?" he tried to imagine a bevy of girls crammed into the daecheong.

"I don't plan on having all of them at once," she said. "If the number is too many, I'll split them up and alternate the classes. The girls are usually needed for the chores at home so I have to adjust schedules accordingly if they really wish to take the classes."

"True," he was impressed, for she had planned well.

Suk-kwon and Ae-young were in the courtyard sorting out the plants when they arrived and added their collection to the pile. From the cheeky grin Ae-young was directing at him, Yunbok supposed she had seen them having that conversation and jumped to the usual conclusions. Pretending not to see her amusement, he helped with the sorting. With four pairs of hands, the work was quickly completed. While the women put away those that were to be stored and hanging those that needed to be dried, Suk-kwon decided they should have a spar before working on the vegetable patch.

Despite having seen them sparred before, Jeong-hyang could not help but feel anxiety. On the one hand, she was gratified to see Yunbok was able to defend himself so close to the same level of competence wielded by men. It was totally unheard of for a woman to be trained in such skills. Impossible. Ridiculous. And here was Yunbok throwing off conventional beliefs with ease. On the other hand,

she was always afraid he would accidentally end up seriously injured for she could see that the older man did not hold back the strength of his blows. But she should trust Suk-kwon knew what he was doing, shouldn't she? It was he after all who believed in Yunbok. Yet, the desire to tell Yunbok to stop these spars had often hovered on her tongue. Now, more than ever, she wanted to tell the both of them to stop these practices.

"Mistress, young master will be all right," Ae-young said soothingly when she saw Jeong-hyang's worried countenance.

"I know, I know but still...," she muttered, trying to concentrate on laying out the plants on the drying racks but her eyes kept swinging back to the two. The sound of their staffs bouncing off the walls of the house.

"Do you know, it's like they are performing a dance," Ae-young continued dreamily. Jeong-hyang looked at her in surprise before turning to watch the duelists. A dance? Their movements were smooth and agile, seemingly too fast for her to follow. She frowned, trying to see the vision the younger woman had seen. It then dawned on her that Ae-young was right, why had she not realize the other aspect of it? Anxiety. Anxiety had prevented her from discerning this. It was also clear to her that he was not afraid at all. Confidence, determination and concentration shone on his face. The flash of a joyous grin when he successfully countered revealed his enjoyment in the spar. For some reason, that clear bright grin of his hurt.

Why? She closed her eyes.

"Mistress, are you all right?" Ae-young asked with some concern when she caught the grimace of pain across Jeong-hyang's face.

"It's nothing, I'm fine. Time to prepare the evening meal, I should think," Jeong-hyang said, opening her eyes to look at the late afternoon sun. "And we need more wood to heat up the water for tonight."

"Yes, mistress," the young woman hesitated before changing her mind to ask further questions. As she fetched more wood from the woodpile, she ruminated over the past months. They were happy, she was sure of it but there had been some upsets recently. Their disagreement on the day master Han came to visit and faint muffled shouting that night had been alarming but everything seemed all right the next day. Perhaps all was not as it seemed but then, maybe it was just the typical clashes when couples did not see eye to eye on some subjects. She hoped it was so. The courtyard was empty when she returned with the wood. The bout was over and both duelists were working on the vegetable patch fences. As the sun set, they went down to the creek to fill the empty doks with water for the baths.

It was a ritual Yunbok looked forward to. Sometimes he wished he could take a dip in the creek during the hot summer, even though he did not know how to swim, but he had not dared to. The tub was the next best pool of water he could get into and he lingered in it as long as he liked for the only person who would dare to barge into the aptoe was Jeong-hyang. He shook his head as he sat in the back room that night. There was water in his ears, he was sure of it. Immersing his head completely had not been a good idea but the bath was entirely too relaxing that he forgot himself.

Leaning from one side to the other, he tried to clear his ears, felt the pops and the trickle of flowing water as he succeeded. Wriggling his toes, luxuriating in the warm comforting feeling after a bath, he used a cloth to mop up the water in his ears and looked up as the door opened. As always, there was that allure about Jeong-hyang with her hair down and he stopped what he was doing to watch her moved about the room. When she finally sat before the chawgyong, he went to help to comb her hair as usual. However, he was uneasy for he sensed something was bothering her.

"What are you planning to buy tomorrow?" he asked, as a way of getting her to talk for she was silent, disturbingly so.

"What?" she looked at him blankly in the mirror as if she had not heard his question. He repeated his query patiently. What was ailing her? "Just some thread and cloth," she answered and fell silent again.

"Is something wrong?" he said finally as he watched her braid her hair. "Hyangya, tell me what is the matter," he said anxiously when he caught sight of a tear trickling down from her eyes.

"Nothing," hastily, she wiped it away and pushed the mirror back into the box.

"No, what is upsetting you?" he persisted when she shook her head. "Is it because of what I did this afternoon up at the hill?" he said dejectedly, not certain what he had done wrong.

"No, it's not," she denied firmly, turning away as he leaned around her to see her face.

"Then what is it? You have to tell me, you can't keep it away forever, aren't we supposed to share in everything?" he hugged her from behind, afraid that whatever was causing her grief would mean his losing her. Hearing the anxiety in his voice, she could not keep in her tears and cried.

"Dont' ask, don't ask," she pleaded, turning around to hug him, knowing she was upsetting him and trying to control herself but failing. An irrational fear that he would be gone struck her and her clasp on him tighten painfully.

Hopelessly confused, he held her; sensing her fear but not comprehending it. As he listened to the storm of her sorrow, he felt more and more depressed. Had he failed her somewhere? Questions hovered on his tongue as she gradually became calmer and her tears ceased but he held them back. Silently, he tucked her into her bedding before laying in his own but he did not blow out the oil lamp, aware she was not asleep and that he would not be able to either. It wasn't the time to ask any questions, he knew that and he lay there wondering what to do. The shadows of their unmoving selves against the wall gave him an idea. He sat up and saw she was watching him.

"Look Hyangya, what do you see?" he held his hands before the oil lamp and wriggled his fingers. She turned her head to look, cast against the wall was the shape of a tortoise. Tweaking his fingers, he made the tortoise crawled across the wall. Twisting his hands again, he cast the shadow of a bird in flight and a rabbit in turn. "Young-bok and I used to do this when we could not sleep," he said pensively, the shadow play evoking memories. "Or when we were punished." he threw the shadow of a duck. "We tried to come up with new ones but were not very successful but still, it helped us to while away the time..," he swallowed a sigh when she remained silent and turned to see she had fallen asleep.

What had happened earlier? What was making her so unhappy? She had been fine until they got back home. What then? He racked his brains, trying to recall what he had been doing. Sparred with his master, mended the fences of the vegetable patch, helped to move the drying racks to the porch, brought up the water, had dinner, had a bath. He ticked off his activities one by one on his fingers. What? Perhaps it was not what he did that day but some other day? If so, what had triggered her upset? What had he done?

Resting his chin on his drawn up knees, he contemplated her sleeping countenance as he thought about the days since she had moved in with him. Other than her taking over the household chores, there had not been many changes. No, that was not right. Nights were not a simple laying out the bedding, rolling into it and sleeping anymore. Nor was it as lonely as before. Now he had someone to talk to, very much like those nights with Young-bok. They had been having many conversations, he realized, so many things to talk about, to discover about each other. Never could he imagine a night without her.

So what had happened today? Something to do with the villagers? He dismissed that notion as quickly as it came. She had no problem mingling with them and vice versa, something as mundane as a run in with a villager would not cause that much grief. No, it had to do with him, he was sure of it. But wait, there was that row almost a month ago. That was the only time she had been extremely upset with him but that was over, was it not? Or was it? Was she still brooding over it because he had not agreed with her opinion? Surely that was a fatuous reason to be so disconsolated over? He stared at her. Sighing soundlessly, he gently pulled the cover up to her chin.

"Hyangya, what is distressing you?" he murmured, lightly touching her cheek, wishing that it was physically possible to remove whatever it was troubling her. He touched her brow softly before putting out the oil lamp and rolling into his own bedding. Whatever it was, it would be out in the open, eventually. He closed his eyes and drifted away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Gyeongchip 1782**

When Yunbok opened his eyes, the space on his right was already empty. The basin and towel were already laid out for him. Avoidance? Perhaps he was reading too much into her every action. He sighed and did his morning wash. Since he was going out, he wore baji instead of jambangi and wrapped on the haengjeon. Linen jeogori, baeja and durumagi, sadae, gat. The usual attire he wore every spring, summer when he went out and yet it felt like he was gearing up for a battle that morning. Snorting under his breath for his whimsy, he tied on his jumeoni under his overcoat and picked up his jwilbuchae from one of the drawers in his cabinet, snapping it open. Yes, all battle ready. He felt silly, impatiently closed the jwilbuchae and went out to the daecheong.

With perfect timing, Suk-kwon and Jeong-hyang came in at the same time. The soban was set between them and to Yunbok's dismay, Jeong-hyang returned to the kitchen instead of sitting with them as she usually did. The strained air between them was so palpable that Suk-kwon felt he had to find out what was going on. Thinking it would be better to ask Jeong-hyang than his apprentice, he finished his meal and took the opportunity to waylay her in the courtyard.

"What's happening between the two of you? Anyone can sense the troubles within several feet of you," Suk-kwon launched into his questions and then just as quickly changed his mind on getting some answers. It wasn't a good time to talk since Yunbok would be out presently. It would not do to be caught by him, he would pick up their anxieties immediately.

"I...," Jeong-hyang wondered where she should start. In the light of the new day, she was not entirely sure why she had broke down as she did or even come up with a reason why she would think Yunbok would be leaving her.

"Never mind, we don't have time to discuss it, he'll be out here soon. We can talk tomorrow when he's at the seodang," he nodded to her before making his way to the warehouse behind his own house just as Ae-young came out from the kitchen to join Jeong-hyang. Yunbok appeared from the daecheong soon after just as the younger woman was debating whether to her mistress with questions.

"Ready? Shall we go?" he asked enquiringly and led the way when both of them nodded.

Ae-young look at one to the other worriedly as they walked up the trail to the town: neither one was happy, it was obvious as the sun in the sky. For the umpteenth time, she wished she could help in some way and yet knowing it was best she should not be meddling in a private dispute that did not concern her. Yet for the harmony of the household, she hoped they would settle whatever it was and soon.

Yunbok hesitated and then slowed his pace so that he was walking beside Jeong-hyang. As if drawn at the same time, they reached out to hold each other's hands and drew closer as their fingers interlaced. Their pace slowed so that instead of a brisk walk, it became a lesiurely amble. Ae-young dawdled so she was several paces behind them, desiring to give them their private space.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he said quietly, looking at the trail ahead, lined with budding trees, greens and flowers. It was empty for now but there would soon be more traffic further on when the trail joined the main road.

"No. It isn't the right time nor the moment," she said after a brief consideration, regretting her lapse of control that led him to question her turmoil. She did not think he was ready to discuss the subjects she had in mind. "Let's forget about last night, shall we? At least, for a while and enjoy this trip to the town."

"All right," he smiled at her, squeezing her hand encouragingly and feeling her answer, glad that at least, for the day, there would be no thunderclouds hanging over them. "Do you want to go with us to the bookshop or head straight for the items you want to buy?"

"I'll head for the cloth shop and meet you at the bookshop. I think we'll be faster than you in our errand," she let go of his hand as they came in view of the main road and the travellers going to and fro.

"Do you have enough money?" he reached into his coat.

"Yes, you don't have to provide," she said quickly to prevent his giving her some of his.

"We need to discuss our finances later," he withdrew his hand from his coat, knowing she would not accept if he tried to hand her any. "Otherwise..," he cocked his head at her, thinking of more plausible quarrels to crop up over money amongst other things. Thus far, they had just come together without giving a thought to forming an orderly arrangement or was it agreement when to came to basic necessities. A gross oversight. "And there is Ae-young to consider too."

A pang of guilt struck them as they looked at each other and then at the girl behind them who looked at them in bewilderment at their abashed expressions. Were they talking about her? Did she do something wrong? The smile from Jeong-hyang reassured her and she hurried to catch up as the older woman beckoned. The road became more crowded with horse and ox carts, peddlars, merchants, farmers moving to and fro. A line had formed at the east gate as the soldiers manning them demanded that those with the identity district tablets to show them while those who had none were drawn aside to be questioned by officers.

A few soldiers went down the queue, inspecting the carts and the goods. Yunbok readied his identity chit and made sure Jeong-hyang and Ae-young had theirs on hand. The soldiers examined the tablets carefully and waved them on. Once past the east gate, they split up. Yunbok stood still for a moment, to get his bearings even as he watched the two women moved away through the crowd. Tiny chaffs from a passing load of barley on the back of a farmer went up his nose and he sneezed. Hastily, he removed himself from the entrance as he continued to sneeze a few more times. By the time he reached the bookshop, his eyes were watering.

"But why are you crying, brother Seo?" came a laughing voice as he used his sleeve to blot up the tears.

"It must be the thought of spending an agonizing morning with you," he retorted as he turned away from Young-joon to sneeze again. "Ahhh..," he shook his head, grabbing a clean handherchief from within his coat to wipe his nose.

"Tsk, tsk, here, this might help," a hand held a bottle under his nose. He jerked away from the sharp acrid smell that seemed to go straight to his head.

"That smelt terrible. What is that?!" Yunbok complained, glaring at a chortling Young-joon who replaced the chobyeong from where he had taken it; a woodware shop.

"It's just vinegar. Come on, brother Seo, time is wasting," he said, taking hold of Yunbok's sleeve and gave it a tug before walking further up the street and turning into the bookshop. Only vinegar? It did not smell like it but Yunbok hurried after his friend instead of investigating the noxious liquid.

"Are you in a hurry to be elsewhere?" puzzled by his friend's impatience, Yunbok followed him to the shelves.

"Yes, yes, yes and you are going with me," Young-joon said, looking at the books keenly. "That is ... I hope you will go with me," he paused to look at Yunbok.

"Where do you have to be?" Whatever it was in that jug that Young-joon waved at him earlier, it seemed to have stopped his sneezes. His nose still felt stuffy though.

"Where I don't want to be," Young-joon replied enigmatically, pulling books off the shelves.

"What?" That did not make sense. He reached for the books Young-joon was handing over. "We have to check these through, they might not be suitable..."

"No worries, there are tables at the back of the store. We can look through them." Young-joon seemed determined to empty the shelves of books. There was clearly a grumpy look on his face now that Yunbok had a better view of him. "There, that ought to do it," he said, arms full of books. Yunbok half-wondered if his zeal was misplaced for the entire shelves were now denuded of books and the bookstore proprietor looked positively in seventh heaven when he saw the stacks they were carrying. That delighted beam went lopsided when he saw them carry the books to the tables at the back but nevertheless, there was a hopeful look hovering visibly when Yunbok glanced at him again as they sat down.

"So, where is it you don't want to be?" said Yunbok as he checked the books; Seongho saseol, Saekgyeong, Chimgu gyeongheombang, Cheonseryeok. What a mixed bag! But what was this? Qiqi tushuo? He flipped it open and was astonished to find illustrations of strange machines he had never seen before.

"Later, later," Young-joon waved his hand airily, flipping through the stack before him. "I'll tell you all about it during lunch. I reserved a table at the Moon Tavern."

"I forgot to tell you Jeong-hyang and Ae-young came with me..," Yunbok began but Young-joon simply waved his hand again as he flipped through the pages of the book in front of him.

"No problem, no problem," he said as Yunbok eyed him dubiously.

"Are we teaching the students the use of the almanac?" he asked.

"Of course not, that's a silly question," Young-joon snorted.

"True. Then why are you even bothering to look through the book you are holding now?" Whatever it was that was causing his friend's distraction must be momentous. He watched as Young-joon took another look at the book before him before grimacing and tossing it aside. "Why scratch the sole of the foot while wearing beoseon?"

"It's..," Young-joon paused as he caught sight of the hovering proprietor. "Not here," he sighed as he picked up another book. "I promise I'll pay attention. Let's look these over shall we?"

Following his friend's gaze, he realized Young-joon was right that it was not the proper moment to discuss his problem, he returned to his appraisal of the books. Due to Young-joon's discriminate grabbing from the shelves, it was not surprising there were several books on irrelevant topics. These he stacked on the far side of the table. It also meant some time was wasted in putting the books in some semblance of order according to topic. It seemed to him they were doing the proprietor's job. They were almost done when Jeong-hyang and Ae-young turned up. After an exchange of greetings with Young-joon, Jeong-hyang turned to look at the books herself after seeing that they were still busy with the sorting, keen to find out if there were any new editions of books she was interested in. A title caught her eye, she removed the book from the shelf and turned to Ae-young, who was browsing behind her.

"Ae-young, have you finished reading Daedong yaseung?"

"Yes, mistress. Some of the words are difficult but I managed to finish it."

"How would you like to read this one?" she waved the book at the young woman.

"Ongnumong?" Ae-young almost grabbed the book from her hands. "I've been wanting to read this!" she held the book almost reverently.

"I'll buy it for you then," Jeong-hyang smiled at her delight.

"This will while the nights away!" As if she could not wait, Ae-young opened the book and began to read.

Glancing at the women, Yunbok wonderd if he should go ahead to buy some books for Jeong-hyang. Having no idea what she had in mind for her subject lessons, it didn't seem like a good idea. Would there be any difference in subjects between classes? He did not think so but still, he had an inkling that she would not be pleased if he went ahead and spent his money on the books. They really need to talk about a few things, he realized and he had to wonder if he had taken her for granted. But it was still early days for them, wasn't it? He frowned as he stared unseeing at the page before him and gave a start as Young-joon heaved a sigh beside him.

"I guess we're done then, brother Seo?"

Yunbok nodded and helped to put back the books they would not be getting back on the shelves, hoping the proprietor would not be put out by the way they returned them. For certain, the books were not in the original order he had arranged them but he did not seem perturbed at all. Instead, he seemed pleased they were taking the trouble to do so. Perhaps it was number of books they were buying that sweetened his disposition.

With the books too burdensome to carry around with them, they made arrangements to have them delivered to the seodang on the morrow. Their task done, they waited for the women to join them outside the shop before making their way to the tavern. It was moderatey crowded so they were able to get a table for the women.

"So, brother Han, where is it you have to be after this?" Yunbok said as Young-joon filled his cup from the teapot when they were done with their lunch.

"My future-in-laws. My father is trying to arrange a marriage for me," Young-joon said gloomily. Surprised at the news, Yunbok put down the cup he was about to sip from.

"What's wrong with them?" he said. "Why do I have to go with you? Shouldn't your father be with you?"

"I'm hoping they wouldn't be my in-laws," Young-joon tossed back his drink in one gulp and poured another. "I don't know the girl!" he moaned.

"But..," Yunbok regarded his friend in bewilderment. Were not all arranged marriages like that? Neither party knew the other.

"I don't want an arranged marriage," Young-joon looked at Yunbok. "I want it to be like yours. Aboji promised I could take my time but your getting married seemed to have changed his mind so he told me to pick a bride. I said why not Kyoung-mi? But she said no when he asked her so he told me to pick a girl. How is it possible for me to even possess knowledge of eligible girls in town? So I said I have no candidates in mind. He said he would look for me and he gave me this letter this morning, telling me to present it to Master Meen. A muljiu, inviting him to dinner. Then before I left he said I have till Soseo to find a bride otherwise I would not have a choice. Tell me brother Seo, where am I supposed to find a wife?"

Yunbok tried not to laugh as he listened to the long delivery. So that was what was needling Young-joon. He was not sure he understood his friend's concern though. "Brother Han, why are you afraid of an arranged marriage?"

"I don't want to live with a stranger." The contents of the cup seemed to mesmerize Young-joon as he stared into it, as if he could see the visions of his future in it. "Imagine the kind of conversations we would have daily! Which is practically no different to conversing with anyone in the streets. If there is a family problem, could I discuss it with her? If I have a problem, could I even talk to her? I'm not even sure I could lay with a total stranger."

"Brother Han, you are putting too much into this stranger concept. True, she would seem like an outsider but like uncharted lands, you would make new fascinating discoveries as time goes by," Yunbok said reasonably.

"I know I know but..," Young-joon leant forward as if afraid someone would overhear. "I heard the daughter of Master Meen is truly an ugly girl. I don't want an ugly wife!"

Yunbok seriously doubted that was the real reason of his friend's objections but his agitation seemed sincere. He tried again to get to the bottom of the problem. "Brother Han, perhaps the reasons you gave are probable but those are not really what you are worried over, are you?"

Young-joon sighed. "I really want a marriage like yours."

"My friend, you are saying you want to be certain of your bride before you marry her, is that right?"

"Yes, I want someone who loves me and I with her before she marries me."

"That's asking for a monk's sangtu. No reputable family will allow their daughters to associate with outsiders. Brother Han, your aspirations is too high,"Yunbok shook his head.

"That's why I need your help. We're going wife hunting this afternoon," Young-joon announced with determination to his friend's astounded disbelief.

"How are you planning to do that? Are you hoping to find them out there in the fields?" Tried as he might, Yunbok could barely hold in his merriment. What a tale he would tell Jeong-hyang that night!

"Perhaps," Young-joon brought out a long object which Yunbok recognised as a telescope from his overcoat. The sight of it nearly sent Yunbok into gales of laughter. Was Young-joon serious? "I borrowed this from a friend of mine."

"What was he using it for?" Yunbok was certain that Young-joon's friend was not using it to gaze at the sky.

"I'll tell you that later. You are coming with me when I deliver the letter, yes?" Young-joon said anxiously. Clearly, he wanted someone to give him the courage to do so although Yunbok could not see what was so detrimental about delivering a letter.

"Fine, fine, if you need someone to hold your hand. It's fine with me," Yunbok coughed as he tried to stifle his laughter. "I'll just let Jeong-hyang know..."

"You can't tell her what we are going to do." The red flush of embarassment bloomed on Young-joon's face.

"I'll just tell her we need to run some errands," Yunbok said soothingly although he was sure Jeong-hyang would pick up his amusement. He got up and went to where Jeong-hyang and Ae-young were seated. They had just finished their meal, he saw as he walked up to them and informed them of his intentions. Jeong-hyang eyed him curiously, having indeed picked up his mirth. What were the both of them up to, she wondered but only said that she would return home with Ae-young. If he was in town with Young-joon, she would have that talk with master Park.

His task done, Yunbok returned and waited as Young-joon paid up before they set off to deliver the letter. The price of the lunch was astonishing, yet business at the tavern did not seem to be poor. Everything seemed to be as usual as they strolled along the main road but there was a detectable air of strain as people went about their business. Prices for foodstuff remained high when they paused by the grocery stalls at the marketplace to check. Just as they were about to turn up the road north, a series of shouts was heard. Before long, someone in ragged clothing ran by, followed by a couple of soldiers.

"A refugee," Young-joon murmured as the soldiers caught up to the unfortunate man, who simply did not have the energy to outpace them, and dragged him back to the western gates.

"I presume the camps are out west," Yunbok looked on sadly as the man begged the soldiers to let him go. "Are the food stores going low? I thought with the advent of spring, they would be allow to pick the wild greens from the hills."

"We delivered some stores the day before so I had the opportunity to see the situation. It's true they are not exactly given ample food but just enough to fill their stomachs. Some of the wealthier families have doled out bindaetteok but there is only so much to go around," Young-joon felt a little queasy. "The women have been allowed to go to the hills to pick what they could but I think nothing is more filling than grain, which is what they need."

"I feel ill for having eaten at the jumak." A guilty pang hit Yunbok for he felt as if he was having good food at the expense of others who need it more.

"Me too," Young-joon groaned and they looked at each other.

"No more eating at any jumak," they said in unison and laughed before turning somber.

"What about drinks? Drinks should be fine, no?" Young-joon said.

"Since only semyeon is served, we can drink freely," Yunbok nodded.

"I hear there is bootleg liquor available if one knows where to go."

"Tsk, the penalty will be heavy if the peddlars are caught," Yunbok shook his head at the obtuse selfishness of those who hoarded much needed grain in order to make wine.

As they walked along the winding path that led to the main gate of the Meen residence at the northern side of the town, Yunbok noticed his friend's pace became slower until he was almost literally dragging his feet. Surely it could not be that terrible, having a look at his future-in-laws? Or rather them having a look at their future son-in-law.

"Brother Han, if you are not happy with this arrangement, you can reject it, can't you?" he pointed out, tugging his friend's sleeve to try to speed up his pace. "Besides, it's not as if you are going to move in with them once you are married. She's moving in with you," he stopped as Young-joon made no answer. "It's not the girl," he said suddenly as a thought struck him. "You don't want to get married at all."

"Ahh, brother Seo," Young-joon sighed, his friend had hit the nail on the head. "I like the way I am now. I can't imagine myself tied down by a wife. I mean, I can relatively do whatever I like but once I have a wife. I mean, look at you."

"What? What's with me?" Yunbok did not understand what he meant.

"Remember the night you had a quarrel with Jeong-hyang? You were practically so upset you did not know what to do, you looked as though you would not dare to step foot in the room she was in. I can imagine that happening to me and more. I have peace at home now, do I want to bring back someone who can kick me out of the room? Who will nag at me the moment I see her? Who will give me no peace if she wants something done? Who will question me whenever I go out?" Young-joon shuddered at the morbid visions running before his eyes.

"Brother Han." Truly, his friend had exaggerated! Yunbok was amazed he had put so much effort in muddling up his own perspective. "You are forgetting you live in an entirely different environment from me. I am not rich so Jeong-hyang and I share the same quarters. You have your own room, your own space. And so will she. And the differences you are so afraid of would only come about once you and your wife are more familiar with each other or rather, starts to care about each other. Isn't that good? It is hardly likely to occur immediately the moment she marries you. It takes time."

"Maybe..," Young-joon began gloomily and was startled when Yunbok impatiently grabbed him by the arm.

"Enough, brother Han, stop dragging your feet. Just deliver your letter and be done with it!" he said, tugging his friend the last several feet to the front gate whereupon he used the knocker once and called out before Young-joon could change his mind. He kept a hold on Young-joon's sleeve and pulled him in after him once a servant opened the gate to admit them. Since Young-joon couldn't seem to get his tongue to work, he gave their identities to the servant who went off to announce their presence to the master. Presently, the servant returned and invited them to the daecheong where master Meen invited them to refreshments.

Seated a pace behind Young-joon, Yunbok listened to his friend's monosyllabic conversation with the older man even as he observed his surroundings. It was a lavish house that outshone the Han residence; fine furnishings, flooring and beautifully latticed windows and verandahs that screamed of the wealth of the owner. A flicker of movement at the far corner of the daecheong caught his attention. A sliver of maroon at the edge of the window. Was that the sound of laughter? A young woman's laugh, followed by two other and an accompaniment of thudding wood that was repeated in intervals.

The rustle of cloth pulled his attention back to the two men. The interview was over and Young-joon looked as if he could hardly wait to get out there as he bowed quickly to master Meen and got up. As they moved to the porch, Yunbok deliberately lagged behind and sidled closer to the window. Tilting his head to the right just so, he caught sight of three girls. Just as he thought, they were playing the nolttwigi. He smiled as his sharp eyes noted down some important details and he quickly withdrew before any of the girls noticed him. Ah, but he was tardy. He hurried to catch up to Young-joon at the gates.

"This way, brother Han," he said to Young-joon after they had stepped through the gates and his friend began to backtrack down the path.

"What? Isn't it this way?" Young-joon said in surprise, pointing in the direction of the path they had taken to the Meen residence.

"I thought I'll take the time to get to know the small paths around here since I have never been in this area before. Do you know who live in this neighbourhood?" Yunbok waved his hand at the houses around them as they moved further up along the path, following the length of the wall running parallel to the Meen residence.

"Well, it's just two families here. Master Meen, whom we have just visited and there's the family Sohn. They are mostly into textiles," Young-joon said, pointing to the large compound south of them. "I think this path lead us to one of the eastern main streets."

"What do you think of master Meen?" Yunbok stopped and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. He could just hear the girls' voices over the wall.

"I don't know," Young-joon frowned. "I don't like the look of his eyes, shifty looking."

"Fair enough, you don't know him, he doesn't know you in so brief an encounter. So what plan did you come up with to seek a wife?" Yunbok half-wondered if his friend was deaf. Could he not hear the laughter and the little shrieks? "You have till Soseo, that's what your father told you."

"Actually, I don't really have a plan," Young-joon sighed as he mirrored Yunbok's stance on the opposite wall. "I have some stupid idea of looking at all the women in town. That's why I borrowed the telescope so we need not have to climb walls and so on. A high vantage will do. If that doesn't work, I'll..," he trailed off as he glimpsed someone coming into sight behind the wall Yunbok was leaning against. It was a girl. He blinked at the laughing joy on her face. How did she manage that? But he stood there, waiting for her to appear again, which she did in a moment and realized she was on the nolttwigi.

"What's wrong?" Yunbok pretended not to understand his friend's distraction.

Young-joon did not answer, instead he moved nearer to the wall of the Meen residence. Now he could hear young women's voices and the thud of wood. Who was that he saw just now? He stood on tiptoes, trying to see. When that failed, he jumped several times, striving to go as high as he could and then looked around for something to stand on, even as Yunbok watched his antics with amusement.

"Who is that? I need to see." Young-joon muttered. "Don't just stand there, help me...," he began before he saw the huge grin on his friend's face. "You knew they were there, when?"

"Does it matter? I thought you said master Meen's daughter is very ugly? Why do you want to look now?" Yunbok taunted cheerfully. "Besides, do you know which one is her? You may end up choosing a maid!"

"No, I saw only one. I don't care who she is, help me up!" Young-joon batted Yunbok's shoulders as he put up a foot.

"Not on my shoulders, you don't!" Yunbok fended off his friend's foot which he caught in his hands and jammed his back against the wall as he boosted Young-joon higher.

It was enough to raise Young-joon to get a footing on the top of the wall. Climbing up and crouching low, he peered over as Yunbok looked on in amusement. There were three girls at the nolttwigi and he knew immediately there were no maids at all. All three were wearing silver norigaes but the one who caught his attention, he switched his gaze to the one on the right. Almond eyes, fine brows, fair skin, that look in her eyes, that smile, that laugh, he gazed in rapture. Ahhh, he could stand there and watched her all day and compose poems of her paintings he could draw of her.

His daydreams came to an abrupt end when the girl weighing down the nolttwigi saw him and screamed. All three girls froze as they stared at him and he at the girl he was oggling at. All three leapt off the nolttwigi and ran to the house even as Yunbok tapped Young-joon's foot and gestured to him urgently when he finally looked down. Was he planning to stay there when the alarm had been raised?! They could hear the commotion and knew it was a bad idea to be caught there and then. Young-joon leapt down and they ran. Their flight reminded Yunbok of the time back in Hanseong when he was similarly pursued for looking over the wall of somebody's house. However, this time he was hardly at fault! They skidded to a stop just before the path merged with the eastern street, striving to get back their breaths before they lose themselves in the crowd.

"So, which one was it?" Yunbok wanted to know as he sipped from his cup as they sat at the Moon Tavern. No answer was forthcoming, his friend was leaning to one side, a hand supporting his head as he gazed sightlessly into the air, his cup of semyeon untouched. Was it as easy as that? To be smittened so fast? He smiled as he thought back to the day he first saw Jeong-hyang. Perhaps it was so. Waving his hand before his friend's face brought no response either. Shaking his head, he settled down to wait a while before coming up with a more drastic way to snap Young-joon out of his woolgathering.

As he sat there, waiting patiently for Young-joon to gather his wits, the murmur of conversation from the nearby table caught his attention. Especially more so when a particular name came up.

"... tried to get hold of that painting but I was outbidded."

"How much was it sold for?"

"Two gold nyang." Awed whisperings. "How could I compete with that?!"

"I think you're fortunate. I hear the paintings over at Hanseong fetched more. You could have ended up with an empty gangjeong!"

"You're saying it's a replicate?!" Disbelief clear in the voice.

"Come now, surely you must have some reservations? Most of Hyewon's paintings resided in the hands of the Yangban and rich merchants. Who would want to sell them? They're priceless! Especially since the painter himself is no longer selling his works."

"That is true. I have not seen any new authentic paintings of Hyewon's for several years now. Whatever has happened to him?"

"If you ask me, he's secretly painting and hoarding them. When he judged the time to be right, he will sell off one of his art pieces for an enormous sum."

"That's your own conjecture," disapproval in the tone. "There are so many stories going about. The most recent one I heard is that he has gone up north, to China, to study samples of foreign paintings."

"Last I heard, he's carousing in some gibang at Jeolla-do, living off the earnings of his lover." A sly tone.

"You heard of that fantastic rumor about him being a woman?"

"Aigoo! I think that must be referring to his inability to perform." The snicker was abruptly choked off as the table was rapped.

"That's a slanderous slur..."

"Probably by some jealous lover," put in someone.

"I wonder how many did he leave behind in the dust?" An envious note.

"It's all nonsense," scoffed another. "If he had that many women, surely his philandering would have turned away the others."

"Not if he's a charmer. I've a friend who can entice even the most obdurate. Why he...," the voice dropped to a whisper.

"Not least to say a terrible insult to the family name," someone said loudly.

"Speaking of which, his father disowned him, did he not? There must be some truth in it, his philandering."

"I have known of fathers who turned a blind eye to their sons' womanizing..."

"He must be a very good lover, I never heard any complaints...what?"

"And how would you know that?"

"I stopped by a gibang at Songdo and one of the gisaeng said she had entertained him before...um ..I was curious and um ...you see, to know if that rumor about him being a woman ..."

"And?" A few voices echoed the qeustion as the speaker stopped.

"Aigoo, that gisaeng passed a remark that he may seemed like a frail fellow but ...," the voice dropped to a whisper. A louder impatient rap sounded in the midst of a chorus of lewd comments.

"We are wasting our time with all these conjectures. My friend, it is a good investment to buy a Hyewon painting but it is very unlikely you can get the genuine article these days. The next time some dealer comes with some painting purported to be from Hyewon, I suggest you turn deaf and blind. Remember what happened last year? The local art dealer here mistook a replicate for the real thing and roused so much excitement."

"Wise words." A sigh. "Aigoo, I think I have better get going. I have an appointment with a gaekju."

The men at the table put on their shoes, rose to their feet as one of their number paid the tavernkeeper and left. Yunbok did not turn his head, though he wanted to. Even though he was worried over what he heard, he had been hard put not to laugh uproariously at the nonsense. Was that what people were saying of him? A glance at Young-joon showed he was still in the midst of his dreams. He turned over what he had heard. There was absolutely no chance anyone would ever suspect he was in Uiryeong. But it was confusing. Why did that gisaeng said she had entertained him at Songdo? As far as he knew, he passed through Siheung, not Songdo when he initially left Hanseong. Too, even if he had the money he would not be visiting any gibang. Someone was impersonating him. Who?

* * *

Suk-kwon rubbed his beard thoughtfully as he checked the stored bales of paper. The type of paper that could be made from the paper compressor would be more expensive, time consuming to produce and had a limited range in type of application and consumers but profitable nevertheless. But there was definitely a few advantages if it was used within the administration. Sitting down on a bale of paper, he turned over the idea in his mind, examining it carefully. Yes, it could be done. He looked up as the door to the storehouse opened.

"Master Park?"

"Jeong-hyang? I thought you would be back much later," he said with some surprise and got up.

"I came back earlier. He's still in town with Young-joon," she said as he looked behind her.

"All right. Shall we go to the creek? It can get very stuffy here," he said, closing the door of the warehouse and locking it behind him. There was no sign of Ae-young so he presumed she was in the house."So, what happened?" he got straight to the point once they were settled at the creek.

"I'm not sure..," Jeong-hyang said uneasily as Suk-kwon sighed.

"How about...," he hesitated. It was like trying to walk in the dark. He was not used to any indepth discussion with a woman. Yunbok was more man like than woman that he hadn't had much trouble speaking with him. "How about talking what was it that made you upset? Was it something that happened yesterday?"

"It was that look on his face," she said slowly. "When he was sparring with you? It was an expression of joy, free of burdens, unrestraint, enjoyment of the bout. I don't think I have seen him looked like that except once before. And that was when I expressed my wish to remain with him...," she stopped. Suk-kwon waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts. "I cried last night. He did not know why. I knew it only made him depressed, to see my unhappiness but I just could not help myself."

"Ah," Suk-kwon heaved a sigh. "That's why the both of you were so unsettled this morning," he flipped a pebble into the water. "You want him to be happy, free of the burdens he carried within but the sufferings he had gone still weigh on him profoundly and it pains you, that's why you were upset, am I right?"

"I feel I'm not doing enough for him," she confessed disheartenly, twisting the garakji on her finger in her agitation.

"Is one spoonful of rice enough?" he smiled at her surprise. "Do you know you are very lucky? He is a child of my heart and yet there is a barrier between us I cannot cross as much as I want to help him in any way I can. You have no such disadvantages. Time is on your side. One of the reasons you unleashed your sorrows as you did is that in your desire to see him free of the millstones, you become impatient and you feel you are doing little because there seem to be no improvement over the last month. You are aware that it takes time, as I have told you. However, in taking up this task, you yourself have fallen into the trap of the impatient brewer."

She said nothing, thinking over what he had said. Much of it was true. As each day passed, she had fretted inwardly, trying to think of ways to get Yunbok to talk about the brother and that year of wandering he had dismissed too readily. But it had been more difficult than she realized. She looked up as he continued.

"Look, don't try to deliberately discuss the problem with him. You will only create more strain between yourself and him by trying too hard. Live your life with him as you want it to be. He is content, secure, and he loves you. Let that comfort you. The opportunity that will allow you to ameliorate his emotional entanglement will present itself eventually."

She looked down at the ring on her finger and nodded. "I am indeed brooding too much and trying to get a quick solution, I understand that now."

"If you need someone to talk to, come find me. It's best to have it out in the open than to keep it within as you saw what happened with him."

"But what about you, master Park? Whom do you turn to when you are troubled?" she asked curiously.

"I take it out on the workers," he grinned maliciously at her. "Or I take it out on him," he laughed.

* * *

"We need to go back," Young-joon announced abruptly, sitting up.

"Why?" Did his friend want to take another peep? "I don't think that is a good...," said Yunbok but was cut off as Young-joon suddenly reached across the table and caught him by the coat lapels.

"I don't know who is she, what's her name!" There was an almost wild look in Young-joon's eyes.

"What do you want to do? Looking over the wall would not help you get those," Yunbok said placatingly, trying to prise Young-joon's fingers off his coat. Really, his friend was too emotional sometimes. Perhaps a wife was he needed to calm him down.

"But how do I get the information?" Young-joon let go of Yunbok and clapped his hands to his head, knocking his gat askewed.

"How about asking your father?" Yunbok suggested, straightening his coat.

"He's not at home, he left on a business trip this morning," came the gloomy answer.

"But, what about the dinner invitation?" Yunbok said in bewilderment. Why extend an invitation when the host was away?

"Oh, that's not tonight. It will be held when he comes back in two weeks. That's too long!" Young-joon wailed, thumping the table. The teapot and cups rocked alarmingly. Yunbok shoved his own cup further back onto the table before it could topple.

"There are three girls," he pointed out. "Does master Meen have three daughters? Did he tell you which daughter of master Meen he's going to match you with?"

"I heard master Meen has only a daughter. Aboji only talked about marriage arrangements and then gave me that letter. A moment," Young-joon stopped as he was about to toss his drink down his throat.

"You knew those three girls were there, so you must have seen them. You could paint her portrait!"

"How will that help?" Yunbok said uneasily.

"Don't you see, if I have her portrait, aboji would know who she is. We don't have to waste time fumbling around, trying to figure out who she is," Young-joon declared brightly.

"It's impossible for your father to know who she is unless master Meen has been showing off his daughter in front of him. Have you considered that she might not be master Meen's daughter at all? She could be just some relative staying with them." The suggestion did not seem to discourage his friend at all. In fact, he was insistent that Yunbok paint a portrait of the girl that day and threatened to go on his knees to beg if he had to.

"Surely..," Yunbok began and was interrupted when Young-joon leapt up, put on his taesahye and paid the tavern-keeper for the drinks.

"Come, brother Seo, let's go to your house now," Young-joon urged when he returned. Seeing that he would have no peace until his friend had what he wanted, Yunbok gave in and was nearly ran off his feet when Young-joon deemed he was moving too slow and tried to hurry him up by pushing his shoulders.

"Really, brother Han!" Yunbok was astonished by his friend's attitude. "Don't be in a hurry to ask for sungnyung from a well."

Realizing he was extremely rude, Young-joon had the grace to look ashamed and apologized profusely. On the way to the village, Young-joon could not seem to stop talking of the girl. Yunbok wondered how much help he was going to be at the seodang on the morrow when it was evident he would have nothing on his mind but the girl and said as much to his friend as they walked up the path to the paper mill.

"Brother Seo, I don't make promises I can't keep," Young-joon had a hurt look on his face.

"If that is true, then I should have no worries on the morrow," Yunbok grinned, calling out as he opened the door of the house and heard Jeong-hyang's reply. Leaving Young-joon at the daecheong, he went to collect his painting tools from the mungab in the back room and returned to see Jeong-hyang looking enquiringly from the kitchen. She spotted Young-joon and withdrew quickly. Knowing she would be preparing refreshments, Yunbok laid out the drawing paper, weighing down the ends carefully.

"So, brother Han, describe to me her features," he said as he prepared the ink.

"She has almond eyes that positively shine with her happiness, eyes that could outshine the stars at night," Young-joon began dreamily. "Fine brows that speak of her refinement, wavy as willow.." At this Yun-bok's brows went up and he regarded Young-joon with increasing amusement as his friend's description began to get more rhetoric. Young-joon did not seem to notice Jeong-hyang when she came in and she paused to listen. By this time, Yunbok was shaking with silent laughter and holding his sides. Subtly, she aimed a kick at his leg, shaking her head even as she tried to keep a straight face. Quickly, she placed the soban beside Young-joon and retreated to the kitchen before she herself dissolved into hilarity. Totally oblivious to the reception to his hyperbole of the girl of his dreams, Young-joon continued.

Wiping his eyes and closing his ears to Young-joon's poetic portraiture, Yunbok began to draw, pulling whatever details he could recall from that quick glimpse he had of the girls. Judging from his friend's description, he had an idea which girl his friend had fixated upon. Young-joon fell silent as he ran out of words and blinked as his mind cleared from its dreamy haze to see Yunbok had already begun on the portrait. Not having seen his friend paint before, what he saw dazzle him.

He should have gone to that art competition years ago. The swift, delicate brush strokes, the details, that intense concentration, his friend was worlds away. Truly, he was in the presence of a great artist. Shin Yunbok, Hyewon, he muttered in awe, watching the face of the girl appeared on the paper. Life like and he had captured that expression so well, the one when he himself first saw her. So engrossed and captivated was he with watching Yunbok at work, he forgot where he was. When the last finishing touches of colours were done, he felt as if he had just gone on a journey with his friend. As Yunbok sat back to view the painting, he noticed Young-joon looking at him strangely.

"What? Do I have paint on my face?" he was puzzled at the strange gaze.

"Do you know, this is the first time I see your true face," Young-joon said solemnly as Yunbok regarded him with some alarm at that statement. See him as he was? What did he see?

"What do you mean?" he said uneasily.

"It never really...," Young-joon blinked, searching for the right words. "I never did get a chance to appreciate your talent, to experience it as I did just now," he gestured at the painting. "Brother Seo, for giving me this rare opportunity. I will never ever forget it."

"I am happy to hear I was able to provide such a chance, think nothing of it," Yunbok said, with some relief. "Is this the girl?"

"Yes! You capture her exactly as when I first saw her!" Young-joon said delightedly, picking up the painting.

"Well, I hope you will be able to identify her. I would appreciate it if you make no mention of me if anyone asks about the painting."

"Of course, brother Seo," the smile dropped from Young-joon's face as Yunbok reminded him of why he had to stay hidden. He looked worriedly from the painting to his friend. "Will this..?"

"Portraits are not my trademark work but someone may recognize the brushstrokes."

"I understand. I will show it only to aboji. It will not be given to anyone," Young-joon promised, rolling up the painting carefully and tucking it into his sleeve. "I have better get back. With my father away, I have to look in at the warehouse. I will see you at the seodang tomorrow, brother Seo."

After seeing Young-joon off, Yunbok returned to the daecheong. Feeling hungry, he fished a few tteok off the untouched soban, gathered up the brushes before heading down to the creek to clean them. The chore done, he returned to see that the rest of his painting tools had been packed away. He could see Jeong-hyang seated at the wardrobe in the back room and put up the wet brushes to dry on the brush stand at the desk.

"What was that all about earlier?" she asked as he hung up his gat and coat. Grinning, he sat next to her and related the events of that day.

"If he's thinking of writing poetry to her, he had better forget it," he laughed. "Brows as wavy as the willow? You can only find those on an old man!"

That certainly conjured up the most comical vision, she coughed as she tried to control her giggles. "But he is certainly smittened," she murmured as she put away the clean laundry.

"I certainly hope his prospective father-in-law wouldn't take offense that he was sneaking looks over the wall. If all goes well, I suppose he'll be tied, well and truly before this year is out," he said as he grabbed the pile of his own clothes from the stack and depositing them into his own clothes chest. "By the way, if your classes start, how do you want the payments to be? Haraboji Yoo will want to know."

"Why ask me, you are making all the arrangements aren't you?" she said as he paused in surprise. What did she mean?

"Don't you have some sort of fee in mind?"

"You are the head of this household, aren't you? So you decide," she said evenly as he stared at her, stupefied. Head of the household? Surely she was talking about somebody else! "What's wrong?" she caught sight of his confusion as she turned to pick up the clothes behind her.

"Er..ah...," he stuttered, suddenly at a lost. It was as if she had just dislodged him from a comfortable niche amidst a smoothly flowing river and now he was not sure where he was going.

"You did say we have to discuss our finances, so let's do it now. What do you have in mind?" she watched him carefully as he looked even more taken aback.

Finances? He had some sort of vague idea that they would pool their resources and just use it as they see fit. But was it everything they themselves had saved thus far or just what they earned from the classes and his work at the paper mill? She waited patiently for him to sort out his thoughts. Evidently he had just put forth the suggestion without putting much preparations into it. Too, he was shocked at the idea he was actually responsible for all the major decisions. Was he thinking either she or master Park would be taking charge?

"I think, we should just ask the villagers to pay what they could for the classes? I'm also thinking of pooling what we have into a common fund for expenses and such? Which will include what I earn at the paper mill. I'm also thinking of giving Ae-young an allowance out of the common fund. How does that sound to you?" he said with trepidation. What was that look she was giving him?

"Should my classes be any different from yours?"

"What do you mean?"

"You give free lessons, don't you? So why are you asking for payment?" she pointed out.

"I thought...," he said, abashed at his presumption of her wishes.

"My aspiration in holding classes are the same as yours, they are not meant to rake in goods but to provide help to the villagers," she said gently but firmly. "They know this and they appreciated what you do, don't they? They contribute freely what they can to you every year in the form of gifts. That is good enough."

"That they did. Then is the common fund fine with you?"

"How much do you earn from the work at the paper mill?"

"Well..," he frowned as he thought about it. "Most of it comes from the sale of the paper of course which comes up to three hundred nyang in a good year. That's when the demand of paper is higher but usually, it averages about two hundred nyang. Then there's the work I did during harvest, which provides my share of grain. Since I was living alone," he frowned. "I don't get to spend much at all. The villagers would give us new clothes every year and most of our food is supplemented by the vegetable patch. As for taxes, Master Park designated me as a yangban albeit an improvished one," he grinned at her, "so I don't have to pay the gunpo. So it's one pil of cotton cloth per year. I also opted to pay one-third of the gyeoljak with master Park so that comes up to two du of grain. For you, it should just be a surtax, right?"

"That doesn't mean you throw what you have saved into the fund," she admonished. "I meant to tell you, I'll be continuing my needlework for the extra income. My visit to town had another purpose which was to pick up some orders from customers," she added, to his surprise. "So how should we start the fund?" she prompted him, wishing to let him have the final say.

"Since I received payment for last season, I'll put two hundred into the fund less two nyang for Ae-young's monthly allowance? Ah, I'll let you manage the fund since you are making the household purchases."

"Then I'll put in a hundred," she cut across him as he made to object for he was sure that sum would be out of her savings. "I can't let you contribute alone else why called it a common fund?"

"All right, we'll see how it goes then. We can make adjustments later," he said reluctantly, knowing she was right. "Is twenty pun a month too little for Ae-young?"

"As you have said, we will adapt accordingly." Taking the matter as settled, she returned to the laundry as he watched her for a while, bemused at the subtle change in her before removing twenty pun from his money jumeoni and handing it to an astonished but delighted Ae-young in the kitchen. Not entirely sure what had occurred, he went to sit at the porch to watch the setting sun. So lost in thought was he, he did not notice Suk-kwon as he came by for dinner as usual. The older man wondered what he was thinking of, sitting in the dark. Not another quarrel? Suk-kwon was relieved by the flash of a smile when he called to Yunbok.

"What are you thinking of?" he asked as Yunbok went up to him.

"Just some things here and there. I heard some strange rumors today at the tavern," Yunbok repeated what he had heard to Suk-kwon who laughed. "Do you have something to do with that?"

"It's just gossip to make people confused about you. The more rumors there are, the better. The two most important aspects we are encouraging is your whereabouts. You're here, there, everywhere over the course of the years!" Suk-kwon threw out his arms, grinning at Yunbok. "The other," he grinned slyly, "is to leave plenty of outrageous account of your prowess as a lover of women."

"That is not funny," Yunbok began, offended even though he could see the point of having such gossip.

"We don't have a choice, not after what happened last year," Suk-kwon's chuckle died away. "The more confusion there is, the better. And it is prudent to cast serious doubts about you. Don't worry, it'll be mostly gisaeng who will do the talking. There will be no scandal. It will just be a couple of affairs here and there in other provinces."

"If you say so," Yunbok sighed. "Though I wish there isn't any such need for it."

"All for a good cause, no? There is another matter I meant to discuss with you but since you asked about the rumours," Suk-kwon looked around before nudging Yunbok back to where he was sitting and lowered his voice further. "We are also planning to release some of your paintings."

"Release my paintings?" Yunbok was not sure where Suk-kwon was heading.

"Rumours without solid evidence will not fully flesh out the confusion we have in mind. There are positive and negative aspects to your remaining hidden as you are. What happened last year pinpointed the negative effect of it; it focused their attention to one place. Unfortunately, it is where you are. So," Suk-kwon took a deep breath, "to prevent such an occurance again, we will sell off one or two of your work in other provinces where you are rumoured to be."

"Ahhh, I see ...," Yunbok smiled at the beauty of the deception.

"The choice of which painting is up to you but I'd suggest those on gisaeng, since you will be spending most of your time with those women," Suk-kwon chuckled. "You won't be releasing the paintings for nothing. You're going to be rich," he nudged Yunbok in the side.

"The money will come in handy in future, I'm sure. You're handling the transactions?" Time to start planning for the latter years, Yunbok thought. The amount he would get would be staggering compared to what he earned at the paper mill. He brightened at the thought of providing some measure of comfort for Jeong-hyang.

"Old master Han will do it. I'd suggest you ask him about investments," Suk-kwon knew what his apprentice would be thinking of. With more income, there was a safety resource to fall back on when he grew old. He was pleased Yunbok was thinking positively. "Let me know when you have picked one. As soon as possible so we can get it to the next stage of the plan."

"Should I ask who's impersonating me?" Yunbok wondered if it was an agent.

"Don't worry your head over it. Whomever we choose has his head firmly on his shoulders. He won't do anything dishonorable," Suk-kwon thumped Yunbok heartily on the back. "Come on, let's have our dinner." In amiable silence, they went into the house.

* * *

Korean Words

_Cheonseryeok - calendar of a thousand years_

_Chimgu gyeongheombang - treatment by acupuncture and moxibustion_

_Daedong yaseung - collection of folk tales and historical romances_

_garakji - amber ring worn by women to signify union between a man and woman_

_gunpo - military cloth tax_

_jambangi - work pants of common people, shorter and narrower than baji_

_jwilbuchae - foldable fan_

_jumeoni - pouch to contain money or personal effecs_

_muljiu - financier_

_Ongnumong - Dream of the Jade Chamber_

_Qiqi tushuo - Illustrations and explanations of wonderful machines_

_Saekgyeong - topics on orchards, livestock, farming, horticulture, irrigation, weather_

_sadae - waist cord_

_Seongho saseol - collected works of Seongho_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chunbun 1782**

As Yunbok approached the house, the soft voices of the girls could be heard. Rising and falling, soothing as the murmur of the breeze that was sweeping by, bringing the scent of spring. Rather than opened the doors and disturbed the class, he sat at the porch near the kitchen and put down the small stack of rolled-up papers, a long package and a couple of sulbyeong beside him. As he was about to untie the string keeping the scrolls together, Ae-young who as usual was keeping a watch for him, came up, greeting him softly as she set a soban before him. She smiled as he bowed his thanks before handing her the sulbyeong. She returned to the kitchen with the wine.

A whole morning of lessons had made hungry so he made quick inroad on the snack and was done long before the lesson ended. Picking up the papers, he began to go through them. Presently, the door door opened and a group of girls filed out. Seeing him, they scooted to the side as they wore their shoes. "Sonbaenim," they chorused, bowing before making their way down to the village.

Picking up the soban, package and papers, he entered the house. "Has there been some delay?" he said to Jeong-hyang in passing as he made his way to the kitchen with the soban.

"Some of them had to run errands," she said as she cleared up the minute debris of paper from the floor with a cloth, occasionally coming acoss tiny seeds and chaff.

"Have some refreshments," he placed the fresh soban he had picked up from the kitchen beside the sedge mat she was sitting on before heading for the back room. "Haraboji Yoo gave me two sulbyeong of dugyeonju," he said as he removed his coat and gat. "There's going to be an archery competition on Samjit-nal in Uiryeong. Do you want to go take a look?" he said as he returned to the daecheong. Puliing out the kyongsang against the wall, he sat down with the sheaf of papers.

"Are you going to take part in it?" she paused as she try to imagine him at archery. It was not something he knew how to do before, she was sure. Another skill he picked up from Suk-kwon. At times like this, she wondered if Yunbok would even remember his origins.

"I've been to the event once but it's more of a drinking contest ," he laughed as he prepared the ink. "It is a miracle if any of the competitors can make it to the last round without putting an arrow through themselves. The dugyeonju is a very attractive lure. With the food ration, more men are certain to take part this year," he added musingly.

"We would be rushing if we go. There is the trip to the hills to harvest the azaleas," she reminded him.

"True," realizing he had forgotten the package, he went to the back room and returned with it to hand to her. "Here are a few candles."

"Why are you getting candles? They are expensive," she unwrapped the package to see three fat glossy candles.

"You need more light when you sew at night," he had not liked it when he saw her doing her needlework in the gloom. "If we collect the wax after, we can recast the candles," he added when she made to protest at the cost.

"We don't have the molds for recasting," she pointed out.

"Master Park can make them," he frowned as he marked the paper before him. "I'll furrow and weed the vegetable patch later, I've already checked the ditches yesterday," he said absentmindedly, not noticing her expression as she fingered the candles. She wished he had not thought it necessary to get candles for her but still, it was thoughtful of him. She smiled as she put them away. Finishing her meal, she brought out a piece of paper and placed it on the desk before him.

"Here is a record of our expenditure after our recent visit to the jangsi."

Picking it up, he glanced through it. It was somewhat strange to see the cost of items he never thought was necessary. "The doenjang costs more than I expected," he picked up his brush and made some additions, "then there's my stationery...," he paused as something occurred to him.

"What is it?" she asked curiously.

"Do you realize we've excluded something? We planned for this household, but we're forgetting someone," he stared at her, lips twitching.

"Master Park," she covered her grin with a hand.

"He should be contributing, shouldn't he? He has his meals here, his clothes are washed, mended, made by you and Ae-young, his house is cleaned by the both of you too."

"True, so what are you going to do?"

"Tell him he has to cough up some money."

"Tell him, are you?"

"Ask him," he grimaced, not looking forward to it. "I suppose I can beg him if he refuses."

"Tsk, is that what the master of the household has to resort to?" she teased as he mock glared at her. "I'll save you the trouble," she dropped a pouch with a clink onto the desk. "That's his contribution

when I mentioned the common fund the day we went to the jangsi. I didn't ask him for it if you want to know."

"Why didn't you say so earlier?" he tipped the contents of the pouch onto the desk and did a count. "Two hundred nyang." At least his master was not stinting.

"He said to add another ten pun to Ae-young's allowance as part of his share."

"All right," he rounded up all the figures and handed her the paper. "A good start. You realized we spend less than other households? None of us smoke tobacco!"

"Actually, I do," she nearly laughed at his astonishment. "Affordable though tobacco is, I wanted to save so I stopped smoking. I'm surprised you don't."

"My foster father loves his tobacco but, I never did pick up the habit," he grimaced as unwanted memories floated before him. Resolutely, he pushed them away and bent to his task.

Leaving him to his work, she returned the soban to the kitchen and with Ae-young, made a check on the meju, vegetables, red pepper, malt and salt. Once the weather warmed up further in the next couple of days, a few of the village women would come to show her how to process and work on the jang. There would be little gochujang for little precious grain could be spared but some was better than none, she felt. The seeds for the vegetable patch were similarly ready for the soil, she ran another inspection nevertheless.

The sound of hooves caught her attention as she was checking the fowls at the courtyard. A visibly disturbed Young-joon appeared. He leapt off the horse once he reached the courtyard and tied it to the fence. "Is brother Seo in?" he asked, after giving her an abrupt greeting and bow.

"Yes..," she began but he hurriedly moved to the front door before she could finish, called out and went in before a reply was given. What was the urgency, she wondered as she checked for eggs.

"Brother Seo, I'm undone!" Young-joon exclaimed as he hurtled through the door. His abrupt appearance startled Yunbok who was absorbed in his students' work.

"What's wrong?" Yunbok looked with concern at his friend's pale excited face.

"My father didn't mean to betroth me to master Meen's daughter! What am I going to do?" So worked up was he that Young-joon started to pace around.

"Slow down, tell me what happened."

"He came back this morning so I went to see him about the dinner with master Meen. I told him about my visit that day and that I had seen a girl I liked at the Meen residence and that I would be happy to accept the match. Just as I was about to show him the painting, he said he did not make any such arrangement with master Meen. The dinner is merely a business discussion! Then he continued to add that he does not approve of any such alliance with the Meens because their business practices are crooked," Young-joon paused for breath, eyes bright with his agitation.

"Then why is he inviting...," Yunbok began and stopped as a thought came to him. "Oh..."

"Yes, it probably has something to do with his job," Young-joon said unhappily. "What am I going to do?"

"Brother Han, do sit down. Wearing down the floor isn't going to help," Yunbok waited till his friend sat down, albeit grudgingly. "Do you have any idea how children master Meen have?"

"I heard that he has only the one daughter and a younger son," Young-joon slapped his brow in dismay. "Argh! I was thrown into such a panic that I completely forgot about the painting, I should have shown it to aboji."

"Yes, but don't get your hopes up too soon. You really need to find out which of the three girls is she and only then, can you decide on a course of action."

"How am I suppose to do that? Should I try to inquire at their gates?"

"I suppose.." Yunbok said slowly as he shuffled the papers in front of him, thinking all the while. "For one thing, you can try asking among your own servants. They probably know more than you do. The maids hear more of gossips than anyone else. The other...," he got up suddenly and went to the kitchen, came back after a moment and looked out the front door as Young-joon looked on befuddled. "Hyangya, can you come in please?" he said when he saw she was in the courtyard.

"Ask her...?" Young-joon fell silent as Yunbok motioned to him to wait.

"Hyangya, brother Han has a problem which I think you might help," Yunbok indicated that she sit down when she came in. "Do you know anything about the Meens whose residence is in the north-western side of Uiryeong?"

"Meens?" she said thoughtfully as Young-joon waited hopefully. "Meen, he's a muljiu ..," she stared at the floor. "I have heard tales of the son from the gisaeng at the gibang. A slothful drunkard lout lavished with money. He had tried to garner my services but was rejected."

"What about the daughter?" Young-joon asked eagerly as Yunbok watched Jeong-hyang with a frown, having heard a bite of venom in her tone.

"She's the eldest, she should be around nineteen years old. There was a rumour of a previous engagement but it was called off."

"Have you ever seen her?" Young-joon said hopefully and was disappointed when Jeong-hyang shook her head. Yunbok gave a subtle nod to her silent look of inquery as Young-joon sighed heavily.

"The problem brother Han is facing now is that he doesn't know the identity of the girl among the three he saw that day. Do you have any suggestions as to how he can find out?" Yunbok wondered if she could come up with any ideas.

"I can make inquiries among my customers. I think they will know but it would help if I have an idea what she looks like," she said and stared when Young-joon leapt to his feet.

"I'll get the painting now!" he said and rushed through the front door before Yunbok could say anything. With his friend rushing around like a whirlwind in his disturbed passions, Yunbok didn't think it worthwhile to chase after him so he merely sat listening to the sound of hooves getting further away.

"He's not thinking straight. He reminds me of a wildly spinning top bouncing around. I can easily describe the girl," he shook his head at his friend's impatience and looked at Jeong-hyang. "All three are close in age but I think the one Young-joon is interested in is younger than nineteen. She has a sort of unfinished look about her, sixteen or seventeen maybe. He is right about her almond shaped eyes though," he laughed. "They are somewhat like yours but slanted slightly on the outer fold," he pointed to his eye.

"Then she is probably a relative. Is identifying the girl the only problem?" she picked at a piece of chaff on her chima. Talking about the Meens had roused unpleasant memories.

"No, old master Han does not wish an alliance with the Meens. Apparently, they have a less than ideal reputation," he eyed her keenly, sensing her disquiet. "Did something happen when you were living at the gibang?"

"Although the son did try to create problems when I refused to accomodate him, it was not on me his evil descended," she sighed. "No, it was one of the gisaeng. I heard he was only sixteen when he began to turn up at the gibang."

"Given the wealth of his family, shouldn't he be at a hyanggyo?" Yunbok said in astonishment.

"I'm not clear about that but there is a rumor that he was kicked out, though for what reason I have no idea. His behaviour however made it clear that the rumour is true," she said. "He became enamoured with a young haengsu gisaeng who had recently arrived at the gibang. Not entirely taken with him, she rejected his advances flat out. Unwisely, as it turned out for one day, he managed to trick her into leaving the gibang, using one of his cronies to hire gisaeng for entertainment at a business gathering at the crony's house. She was lured away and.., " she paused, trying to rein in her fury as he winced, for it was clear what had occurred next. "Later, when what he did was exposed, he claimed it was consensual as nobody heard her screaming and that her injuries was self-inflicted. What was more infuriating was when the hojang tried to censure him for his actions, he claimed not to understand why there was a fuss over gongnobi and refused to even consider buying her out."

"That's rather audacious of him, gongnobi are servants of the King after all. He doesn't care about the family and his own reputation then," Yunbok wished he had stopped Young-joon for he felt his friend ought to have a clearer understanding why his father was against the idea of his marrying master Meen's daughter. For his sake, he hoped the girl was not her. "What happened to the gisaeng?"

"The hojang tried to bring charges against him but he could do nothing as the gisaeng killed herself and since any witnesses to the crime were his cronies, the matter was dropped. All he got was to get slap with a fine," she said bitterly. "There have been other stories too of his wanton acts on girls he came across, the bullying and fighting. Of how he almost killed a man with the beating he gave him. Despite all he had done, he was never charged with any crime."

Yunbok did not like what he was hearing. ""How old is he now? When did this incident occur?" Faintly, he could hear begging, screams. He blinked.

"He's seventeen. The incident happened just over a year ago."

"When did he to try to importunate favours from you?"

"Several months ago..," she stopped when she saw his grim expression. "You're not thinking..," she trailed off.

"I don't like this," he gripped the edge of the desk, pushing it aside. "Did you see anyone following you when we were at Uiryeong two weeks ago?"

"I think you're jumping at shadows..." she began as he got up agitatedly.

"No, we have to consider all the possibilties, given what you have just told me," he went to the kitchen and came back with a puzzled Ae-young.

"But..," Jeong-hyang protested. Surely he was letting his fears and paranoia run away with him?

"No!" he snapped and took a deep breath before speaking more calmly. "Ae-young, what did you tell the gisaengs at the gibang when you packed up your mistress's belongings?"

"She instructed me to tell them she was moving away but when they persisted on knowing the reason, I told them she was moving in with her lover, that she was getting married. At least, I thought then that was what would happen," Ae-young looked anxiously at Yunbok, his tension fueling her apprehension. What had happened, had she done something wrong?

"Did you say where she was going to stay?" Yunbok stopped himself from looking out the door and instead forced himself to correlate whatever information he had.

"No. I only said she was going away. Did I do something wrong, master Seo?" she asked fearfully.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong," he tried to smile at her and failed. "We have some concerns. There was an incident that happened over a year ago. A young gisaeng committed suicide?" he saw that she knew what he was talking about when she turned pale. He waved to her to sit and placed himself near the two of them. "Listen, we have to consider there is a strong possibility he may come after you."

"It's already been near three months! If he intended to do anything, he would have done it by now," Jeong-hyang objected, refusing to add on to the atmosphere of fear.

"If he tried to find out where you are, he may have failed since Ae-young didn't say where you were going. Too, you did not go to town at all till two weeks ago," he strove to control his rising anger at her refusal to consider what he was suggesting.

"He's not stupid, the gisaeng know Young-joon escorted Ae-young. He can find out where I am easily."

"If he did, I doubt Young-joon would have told him. He could have him followed anytime he came down here and found where you are staying. If so, then he must have been biding his time because he knows master Park and I are here!" he slammed his hand on the floor. "I don't like this. Master Park left this morning with Chang-su to deliver some paper. If he intends to do anything, now is a good time."

"I still think you are getting too work up over.." Jeong-hyang froze at the look in his eyes, It was the same level of rage she had experienced the night she tried to make him see his mistake in assuming total responsibility for his brother's death.

"What should we do, master Seo?" Ae-young's quivering voice broke her paralysis and she hastily averted her gaze to the young girl whom she saw was terrified.

"What sort of trouble did he try to stir up when you rejected him?" The rage was so evident she was surprised he had not unleashed it.

"He first tried to intimidate my clients but with most of them as wealthy and as influential as his own family, he had little success," she said. It was an exercise in futility, she felt. Surely he was raking barren earth to no purpose? "When that failed," she continued, "he tried barging into my house but both Ae-young and I made sure we created as much commotion as possible to draw attention to his actions. It forced him to withdraw. The last I heard, he had attempted to find out my true status from the hojang to no avail for the official was not receptive to his overtures since the incident and made it clear he could expect the full course of the law to fall on him should he try anything."

"And then?" Yunbok closed his eyes, trying to think.

"Nothing. He stayed away from me since then." 'So there is really nothing to be worried about.' That statement hovered unsaid between them. Was she right? Was there really nothing to fear?

"The nature of a tiger will never change in any season," he opened his eyes and looked at her. Still, she did not think there was danger.

"Then he should have struck," she pointed out.

"Only when opportunity presents itself. The cunning tiger knows if it strikes too soon, the prey is lost." Ae-young looked at the two of them, sensing the battle of wills between them. What were they going to do? The thought of the younger Meen able to reach them where they were frightened her.

_Why don't you believe me? Have you forgotten Kim Jo-nyeon?_

"Here's the painting! I was on my way back home when I remembered I had it on me all the time." The sudden exuberant call startled them for none of them had heard the sound of hooves. Young-joon burst excitedly into the room and stopped when he saw their somber expressions. "Did something happen?" he looked from one face to another.

"Sit, brother Han, there is something you should hear," Yunbok waited for his friend to be settled before explaining what was going on. Watching Young-joon's mien, Jeong-hyang could see he was not sure if Yunbok was right to be worried either.

"Brother Han, you patronized the gibang, you must have known what the younger brother is like," Yunbok wondered that his friend seemed not to know much about the Meens.

"I started going to the gibang a little more than six months ago. I was at a seowon before that when father decided I should come home and acclimatised myself to the family business," Young-joon said cautiously as he tried to decide whether his friend's fears were justified. "Although the friends I went around with were less than ideal, still, they have no malevolence in them. My path never crossed that of the younger Meen. Now that I come to think of it, it is odd," he frowned. "Thus far, I only heard of the incident you spoke of and mostly what Jeong-hyang had already told you."

"And it never crossed your mind when your father mentioned the Meens?" Yunbok was incredulous.

"I'm afraid not," Young-joon said sheepishly. "My only thought then was that I didn't want to get married and then when I saw that girl, er..."

"Were you aware of the troubles he gave Jeong-hyang back then?"

"No." Young-joon shook his head, feeling like an empty headed fool. "I think by the time I heard about her, there was nothing to be heard about him. Brother Seo," he said softly, "are you sure you are not reading too much into this?" If anything, Yunbok looked more stern.

"Ae-young, I want you to go down to the village. Find Chang-sun and Chang-uk, tell them I require their assistance," there was a tone in his voice that indicated that he would not hear of any dissent. The girl nodded vigorously and went out quickly. "Brother Han, I need you to return home and tell your father what I just told you. Ask him if he had any information to share."

"Brother Seo." Young-joon did not like the air of gloom about his friend that seemed to portent ill. Why was there such a strong reaction?

"Now, please," Yunbok said wearily, without looking up. A rustle of cloth and the sound of foot steps to the door. Jeong-hyang sat there, listening as hooves cantered and gradually faded, and stared at Yunbok, not knowing to say. Without a word, he got up and went to the back room. After a moment of hesitation, she followed him. What was he planning to do, she wondered as he opened one of the drawers of the cabinet. It took her a moment to recognize which was it just as he turned to her and presented a dagger to her.

"Take it," he said as she stared at him wide-eyed. "I know you carry a jangdo but a hidden blade will come in handy."

"What?" she was not sure she heard him right. Was there a need for her to carry another blade? She stifled a scream when he suddenly pushed her against the wall next to the bandaji, pinning her with an arm just under her chin.

"What are you going to do when someone do this to you?" he said coldly as fear held her still. This was not the same person she knew back in Hanyang, she stared wildly at him. Whatever was happening to him? "It won't be someone who's as weak as me," he continued. "Your life will be in his hands, you know what he is going to do. What can you do? Will you scream? Will you fight? Will you try to run? Knowing in the end, it all avails to nothing?" his face darkened even further as memory assailed him. The begging words, the screams rang in his mind.

"How can you even dismiss this matter lightly? Have you forgotten Kim Jo-nyeon? He was ruthless but he was a villain who played by the rules, his rules because of his pride. That he was a gentleman that stood above the uncouth methods of a common thief. You told me he never touched you once he knew your heart was eslewhere. To him, victory and possession in all was vital, that's why he held back. But what happens if you meet someone who has no rules? You said the son was sixteen when he committed the rape. Sixteen! He did not care that his actions had caused anguish and humiliation, that it led to her death. He took the precaution to leave no evidence, no witnesses. Gisaeng are nothing to him, not people, just something he could enjoy and discard, you said it just now how he reacted to official inquiry. What does that tell you about the sort of person he is?"

He turned from her angrily and his hand whipped out blindingly. The dagger thudded into the further wall, almost buried to the hilt. She slide down the wall, shakened as he stood staring at the dagger.

"Don't be like her. Don't be. I don't want to see it happen again. Do you know, there was nothing I could do," she raised her head at the anguish in his voice. "She was young, so young. I could do nothing. I was as helpless as those poor homeless people. I could only hide and listen, frozen by the fear that they would find me. Everything they did was an atrocity, I could not believe such evil existed. Surely I was having a nightmare. But I have to believe it. I could see, I could hear everything. When they were done, I knew none survived and I left. I should have done something but I left...I left," he muttered, sinking to his knees, clutching his head in his hands.

"Painter.."

"..I left them to the wilds. I shouldn't have," he said brokenly.

He could only be talking about something that had happened to him in that year of wandering, she realized. A horrendous peril he experienced that he would never forget. What else had he hidden away? But she understood now, why he had reacted as he did. She had put down his fears to paranoia because she had adversely refused to encourage what she felt were the lingering effects of his sufferings that he had failed to recover from. Now, she had to concede she had been blinded by her own conviction. Silently, she stood and walked to the dagger and pulled it out.

"Teach me," she knelt down before him and held out the dagger. "I know I won't be as good as you but if it will help..."

"It will buy you some time...if you have the courage," unshed tears glittered in his eyes as he looked at her. "It won't be enough if circumstances are against you but..," he swallowed as he shook his head.

"I know you will be there for me. I know you will." He closed his eyes as she embraced him tightly, shocked by how cold his face was. "I know you will," she sought to assure him as he held her such that she could barely breathe, feeling the storm of his distress as he cried. She heard the front door opening and Ae-young's call, and was grateful that she had automatically shut the door of the back room. "They are here, what do you want me to tell them?"

"I...," he let go of her and turned as if he would go out to meet the Joon brothers himself.

"No, you can't go out like this," she pulled him back. "Just tell me what you want them to do."

"Tell them, there may be some trouble tonight, just maybe and asked if they could stay over at master Park's house. I'll speak to them later."

"All right, you lie down," she said soothingly, pushing him to lay on the floor, knowing he was emotionally sapped and went out to where Chang-sun and Chang-uk were waiting, full of curiosity at the summons.

"Where is brother Seo?" Chang-sun asked anxiously when he saw her, looking at the closed door of the back room.

"He is indisposed at the moment, he said he will speak to you later," she said and relayed the request. "Will there be any problems?"

"No, it is fine with us. Chang-uk will return to haraboji Yoo and tell him we won't be available for the day," he nodded to his brother who took his leave. "If it is all right with you, mistress, I'll help with the vegetable patch," he said.

"So sorry to trouble you," she apologized.

"No trouble at all, mistress," he nodded shyly before exiting through the front door as she hurried to the kitchen.

Cold, he had never felt so cold. The ceiling seemed so far away, he felt as if he was falling. Screwing his eyes shut, he tried to push away the images that crowded into his mind but like the release of floodgates, they smashed past the barriers he had put up. Smell of grass, cold sweat, pleading, pleading, pleading, screaming, gleam of cold metal, hard rough voices, the sounds of agony, blood, the sounds of pain, violation, the horror, fear, cold fear trickling down his face, the numbness in his entire body as he clapped his hands to his ears to shut out the sounds. They would be coming for him next. He was next. No, no, why did he have to remember? He did not want to remember, he want to forget! Forget! A door opened, a rush of footsteps.

"Painter! Stop." Hands grabbed hold of him as he writhed on the floor, clutching his head. The scream that left his throat was abruptly cut off as she stuffed the towel she had meant to wipe his face with into his mouth and caught him to her to further muffle the sound, cut to the heart by his violent trembling.

"Let it out, whatever you have been keeping within, let it go," she endeavored to keep a calm modulation in her voice as she sought to ease his misery, even as she grieved with his pain. "You have kept it too long...Yuna, it has hindered you. Hold you back. It will not be easy to forget but you must not keep it restrain anymore. You will only hurt yourself. Do you hear me? Do you hear me..," she whispered as he fell silent but she could feel the tremors in his body.

"Do you hear me?" she pulled the towel from his mouth as she lay him back down on the floor. His eyes were bright in a pale face but he did not seem to see her. "Talk to me," she turned aside, rinsed the cloth and gently wiped his face. Was he seeing whatever it was that was haunting him? "Close your eyes," she folded the towel and placed it over his eyes as he closed them.

"Cold," he muttered, sounding like a child so she took the quilt from the bandaji and threw it over him.

"Talk to me," she urged softly as she held his hand. Silence, he was still trembling. Distraction, she realised, she had to distract him from his memories.

"Then I'll talk," she said when he remained silent. "When my father sold me to the gibang, he told me it was to help the troupe. So I went bravely to my fate or tried to. Within I hated him. For taking me away from my friends, from the only family I know. I hated him for using me to get money, for taking away my freedom, for casting me among strangers. I cried for days and when I ceased to cry, the hate remained. Even as I adjusted to the new life, the hate remained. I made plans, if I were to run into my father again, of how I could get back at him, at those who did not lift a finger to help me."

A sigh, he removed the towel and looked at her but remained silent. His ahnd in hers was no longer shaking so badly. Understanding that he wanted her to continue, she went on.

"Then one day, a new instructor came to teach the class I was in. It seemed an ordinary subject she was teaching but her true purpose was to observe each one of us. When she felt she had discerned enough, she came in one morning and paired each of us with someone we had either had a quarrel with or did not take a liking to. She then asked each one of us to be truthful, to say why we dislike the other person. When we were done, she told us we could each take one single action only with our hands to express our dissatisfaction, there would be no punishment, she said. Of course, nobody dared to do so. She then goaded us, reminded us of what our families had done to us, at the unfairness of it all. On and on she continued until finally the entire class erupted into a maelstrom of anger."

"What did you do?" Ah! Finally, a question from him.

"I slapped the girl I was paired with. She was always picking on me as I apparently was lower than dirt. She slapped me back and we ended up using our fists, pulling, pushing and kicking. The teacher did not stop us, even though she instructed us to take only a single action, nobody was doing so. The chaos only ended when everyone was too tired to continue. She told us to look at the other person we had been taking out our anger on, were we satisfied? Were we happy? Nobody knew how to answer her. Everyone was ashamed of their behaviour. She sent us back to our quarters and told us to reflect on the meaning of the lesson."

"I see," he smiled wryly as he perceived the wisdom of the instructor and the object exercise. "Is that when you realize the futility of your hate?"

"Not immediately so. It took a few more lessons from her before we realized what she was trying to tell us," she laid herself down beside him. "You lied to me. Will you not speak of what you have been keeping within?" He turned his head away. She fell silent, knowing she could only push so far.

"I don't know where to begin." Her heart leapt at that faltering statement.

"Would you like to talk about ... the girl you mentioned earlier?"

A soft sigh. "Her family was one among many to suffer the consequences of corruption. I met her and her parents at one of the western paths near Duryunsan. I learned that they were forced out when their property was acquired by crooked officials. Rather than turn to selling their daughter, her father had chosen to try to seek work at one of the coal mines. They had been travelling for several days and had run out of food. I gave them what I had with me; food and money. She was only fourteen and trying her best to take care of her mother who was worn out by the journey. Such determination and optimisim in her," he sighed. "I felt enlivened, just talking to her. I stayed with them for a while, painted the scenery before I let."

He fell silent but she did not press, waiting patiently.

"I returned to retrieve a couple of brushes I had accidentally overlooked. There was a group of them. I have heard tales of bandits who have banded together, supposedly as a form of protest and resistance against corrupt officials but in reality, was nothing more than a convenient excuse to rob others. They were such a group and they were merciless. I laid down in the grasses, trying to shut out the noises, wanting to leave, to run but I was too terrified to do so. The sounds seemed to go on forever forever."

Quickly, she squeezed his hand in assurance as he heaved in distressed short breaths , his body trembling.

"I had never felt so helpless as I did. I wanted to help but there was nothing I could do. I wanted to give the family a decent burial but I was terrified of what I would see so I ran off the moment I was sure the bandits had really left. I was a coward." How he had cried at the thought of leaving behind the mortal remains of those people who had been looking towards a future. A future that was cruelly cut off. Taken away in one swift stroke, including the bright spark that had flit like a firefly amidst the gloom. "It was dishonorable of me to leave them there."

"No, you're not. What can one person do against many? You're too harsh on yourself for believing that you could have coped with the aftermath of such horror. No one can. Do you know, not even a soldier could withstand such sights? I have heard the sorrows of such men from stories told by my sisters, they drank to forget. If a trained soldier could not, then how can you expect an untrained person like yourself to be able to do any better?" gently she turned his face towards her. "I think she and her parents would understand. You must learn to forgive yourself."

"I do not know if I can."

* * *

**Han Residence**

In the master study room, old master Han fingered his beard as he listened to Young-joon and sighed.

"The reason why that boy had not crossed your path or created further troubles is because he is not in Choson at the moment. His father was displeased with the huge debts accrued due to his addiction to tujeon so he had the boy packed off on a trading expedition several months ago. It is quite extensive, as I understood it, from Hanseong to Busan to Edo, Oenara, then back again and finally to Peking, China," he reached for the painting on the table before him and rolled it up. Young-joon recognized it as one of his friend's works.

"Aboji, is brother Seo right to have concerns over the younger Meen?" Young-joon watched as his father carefully spread a fine sheet of paper across the desk before rolling up the painting in it. Why was he so meticulous?

"I'm afraid so. The attack on that gisaeng was not the first crime he had ever done. He is also responsible for the death of a student at the hyanggyo you went to."

"Not..," Young-joon was startled as he recalled the incident two years ago. "I heard it was an accident."

"Then the father had done a good job in preventing the truth from coming to light," old master Han slide the painting into a painting tube and capped it. "I do not know when the boy will return but ..," he eyed the painting tube. "tell your friend to take precautions until I finish what I have to do. Hopefully, the matter of the Meens may be resolved sooner than he thinks."

"Aboji, if I may ask, what are you doing with one of Hyewon's paintings? Does that not belong to you?" Young-joon knew his father had spent a huge sum acqiuring that painting a few years ago and hung it in his study room. Why was he keeping it now?

"To lure a weasel, the bait must be rich and a plum beyond measure," his father answered blandly. "I hope I will be able to get it back," he patted the painting tube and looked up when Young-joon took out the portrait of the girl Yunbok had painted and spread it on his father's desk. "Ah! I recognize whose hands wielded the brush!" old master Han smiled delightedly. "Why did you ..."

"Aboji, do you know who she is?" Young-joon hoped his father would overlook the interruption but he was anxious to know. If the girl was connected to the Meens, what would happen to her once his father's task was done?

"Is this girl the reason why you thought I was making a match for you with the Meens?" A most excellent piece of painting, that young man had caught the girl's joyful visage so vividly that he could not help but feel as if he was sharing in the moment. "She is not the Meens' daughter. I see you have a keen interest," he continued when he caught his son's sigh of relief.

"Ah aboji, I...," Young-joon stuttered, not really sure how to tell his father. "I...er...I...that is.."

"Really, Joona, what have you been doing at the hyanggyo that you can't speak properly?"

"Aboji, that's not fair," Young-joon burst out passionately, "first you said you want me to get married and that I should find myself a wife. I did not even know how to find one, I had to ask brother Seo's help. Then when I saw her at the Meens, I thought you were intending to match me with her and then you threw me into a panic this morning when you said you did not want an alliance with the Meens, so what was I supposed to think or do?"

"You really like this girl?" old master Han pointed to the portrait and his eyes twinkled merrily when Young-joon nodded emphatically. "Then, you find out who she is."

"But ... aboji," Young-joon was stunned. Find the girl? How was he supposed to do that?!

"Nothing like a little task before acquiring the prize, that will make you appreciate her more!" old master Han cut across his son's protest. "Go on with you." he waved his hand in dismissal as Young-joon spluttered helplessly. "Be off with you!" he glared his son out of the room and chuckled as he picked up the portrait. Oh he knew who the girl was. If Young-joon had his wits about him, he should be able to find out. No doubt he would enlist his friend's help again. Ah, but he had upset his son had not he? He had forgotten all about the portrait!

He sobered as his thoughts returned to the person who had drawn the painting. It was a dangerous request his son had made of Hyewon. If he recognized whose hands it was, then there would be others who would too. He would have to keep the painting hidden away. Then there was the situation concerning Hyewon's wife. He frowned and rolled up the painting before calling in a servant.

Young-joon was halfway back to the paper mill when he realized he had left the portrait with his father. No doubt his father would keep it. It could not be helped, he muttered discontentedly under his breath. Obviously, he could not now ask Jeong-hyang to risk herself in order to find out about the girl. So what other options had he left? Talk to the maids, loitered outside the Meen residence until she came out on some errand? But was she even at the Meens residence? Aboji had said she was not a daughetr so who was she? By the time he reached Yun-bok's house, he still had no plausible plan in mind. He was surprised to see Chang-sun working at the vegetable plot before he remembered Yunbok had asked Ae-young to summon the Joon brothers.

"Master Han," Chang-sun said as he came forward to take the reins from Young-joon. "Brother Seo is within," he added and then put out a hand as Young-joon nodded and turned towards the house.

"Mistress Im said he's indisposed for the moment."

Indisposed? Young-joon did not like the sound of that and nodded again before calling out at the front door. There was no reply and he was half-wondering if he should barge in when the door opened to reveal an anxious Ae-young who let him in swiftly.

"Are they...," he nodded towards the back room since the daecheong was empty.

"They have been in there all afternoon. I don't know what's happening but I thought I heard a scream earlier," Ae-young looked as if she was about to get hysterics.

"A scream?"

"It ..it sounded terrifying. As if someone was in great pain," actually, she thought it sounded as if the person was caught in the depths of torment. It did not sound like her mistress's voice at all so the other person it could have come from was master Seo but she was reluctant to say so to Young-joon. "I called at the door but my mistress said they were fine and told me to finish the chores."

"But you don't think all is well, do you?" Young-joon took a deep breath and approached the door uncertainly. "Um..," he changed his mind and retreated to the middle of the daecheong. "Just call out and tell them I'm here."

In response to the call, the door opened and Jeong-hyang beckoned to him. As he went in, she silently mouthed and mimed what she wanted to Ae-young who understood her message and hurried to the kitchen to make sure all was prepared. There was an air of exhaustion hovering over Yunbok as he smiled and invited Young-joon to sit. His friend was looking wan, Young-joon wondered what had occurred during his absence.

"Brother Seo, aboji said to take what precautions you can," he said gravely and repeated all that his father had said as Yun-bok listened with an inscrutable face while Jeong-hyang looked determined. "What do you plan to do?"

"I do not see why we should be hiding in fear. We will carry on as we are, I will ask the Joon brothers to take turns in watching out for strangers," Yunbok said after exchanging a look with Jeong-hyang. "I will continue to teach at the seodang, Jeong-hyang will continue with her classes."

"Brother Seo, have you considered enlisting the villagers' help?" Young-joon suggested. "You should," he said when Yunbok shook his head.

"He is right, you should talk to haraboji Yoo," Jeong-hyang urged softly and said no more as Yunbok stared at the floor and waited with Young-joon for his decision. It would definitely ease the stress to have more people on the watch and able to help as well.

"All right," he said finally. "I'll talk to the Joon brothers after dinner and haraboji Yoo tomorrow."

"Brother Seo, my father has confirmed for me that the girl is not the Meens' daughter," Young-joon said brightly, hoping to distract his friend. "But he said he does not know who the girl is and said I should find out for myself."

"Ah! I think he knows who she is," Yunbok grinned.

"How did you deduce that?" Pleased that his ploy had worked, Young-joon wondered how Yunbok came by that assumption.

"He made no further objections to the girl, did he? If he intended to remove the Meens, then he would know all there is about them," pointed out Yunbok.

"That is true," clapping a hand to his head for his obtuseness, Young-joon commenced to slap himself lightly to the amusement of the other two. "I really am muddle-headed!"

"Continue as you are and you will be a muddle-headed husband," teased his friend.

"So true! So how am I to find out who she is...wait!" Young-joon put up a hand in a halting motion. "Don't say anything, let me figure it out."

"Well, figure it out after dinner, master Han," said Jeong-hyang, after getting up to open the door to Ae-young's soft call.

"Indeed, you might find your stomach works better than your brains, my friend," Yunbok laughed as he got up.

Young-joon did not mind being teased. He was only too glad to see his friend in a more jovial mood.

* * *

Korean Words

_gongnobi - public bond servants_

_hyanggyo - secondary level by modern standards_

_jangsi - market that opened every 5 days_

_meju - fermented soy bean lump_


	6. Chapter 6

**Cheongmyeong 1782**

The hills reverberated to the beat of the gongs and drums as the procession wound its way up the trail in the early morning. Amidst the cacophony, voices of the men and women could be heard as they sang, accompanied by the sweet voices of children. Everyone was in a festive mood and greeted the sight of their destination, the silvery glitter of a stream, with a joyous cheer, seemingly to scatter but then they gathered to form a circle, into which a masked figure marched and launched into speech. As the drama unfolded, two more masked figures joined the first as they performed part of the Yeonggam and Miyal.

For this day, there was a desire to forget the daily grind and strife. To take the occasion to relax. With the pooling of grain rations, there was expectations that there would be still be the usual dishes to sample. The audience called out their approval and laughed at the witty dialogue of the masked dance-drama. When it ended, everyone joined the musicians and actors in a free-for-all dance, eager to celebrate this special day of spring for soon, the strenuous work of farming would begin in earnest. Uncomfortably, Yunbok declined to join in and only took part in the singing though he could see that Jeong-hyang and Ae-young had no such scruples and were having fun.

The impromptu dance broke up as those with the baskets headed off to collect azaleas while those with the cookware set up next to the stream. With so many hands and voices raised in song that made light of the task, the harvest of azaleas was accomplished quickly. The bounty was borne away to the waiting women, most of whom had taken the opportunity to wash their hair in the stream while waiting for the flowers. When the flowers arrived, they prepared the meal of the day; hwamyeon, hwajeon and osinchae. The last cooked with some of the greens collected with the azaleas. The men went off a little way, glad that they would have the time to themselves and bustled about to set up the activities they had in mind. Soon, cheerful calls came floating along the wind.

"One bowl that he misses!"

"No, two, two!"

"Three!"

"Are you mad? It's too early to be betting three."

"Three is auspicious! I won't lose!"

"I tell you, it's too early to bet three, you won't be able to stand."

"So I lie down to shoot, what does it matter?"

"You'll end up skewering yourself and your wife will not appreciate it if you become a eunuch."

Roar of laughter that Yunbok ignored as he squinted down the sighting, waiting for the breeze that sprang up to die down a little before he loosed. A figure at the far end scampered to the straw target before picking up and waving two red flags, rousing a roar of approval and glee.

"Drink! Drink! You bet three! Let's see what your wife will say at the end of this."

The group of men watched avidly as Bong-chol downed three small bowls of dugyeonju in quick succession before he stood up, picked up a bow from the stack leaning against a low table and walked over to the firing line and prepared to shoot even as the men began to bet.

"Brother Seo, what's your bet?" they called.

Yunbok shook his head, grinning as he watched Bong-chol take aim.

"He did not bet, that's against the rules," came the protest.

"I'll bet for him, four bowls that Bong-chol misses! I'll drink them for him even."

"That's against the rules too. Brother Seo you have to bet!"

"Too late!" came the cry as Bong-chol released the arrow. A bated breath as the men waited, the figure at the other end waved just one red flag.

"Drink!" the men raised their wine bowls. "Oh wait, brother Seo did not bet..."

"I lose, so one bowl for me!" Bong-chol declared, stamping up to the group and grabbing a bowl of wine from one of the men who bemoaned the rate Bong-chol was drinking the dugyeonju for surely the wine would be long gone before a victor was declared.

"Wait, brother Seo, the competition's not over yet!" The rest of the men called out when they saw Yunbok strolling away.

He did not answer but waved at them cheerfully to carry on. After three rounds and hitting the target square, he did not feel there was a need for him to continue to participate when really, all they wanted was to have a good time and drink. He made his way over to where he had stashed his painting tools and tube and picked them up before walking further down the stream. Groups of boys had gathered at weeping willow trees, pulling down the branches, rolling them in their hands until all that was left was the bark to use as whistles. He waved when they called to him, the sound of whistles rolling back and forth among the groups.

As he wandered further down, there came the sound of giggles, lively chatter and the aroma of food that threatened to overpower the beauty of spring in full bloom. He sat down a distance away from the group of busy women and began to draw the scene. A faint giggle over his shoulder distracted him.

"Sonbaenim, can you paint butterflies?" said the little girl when she saw she had caught his attention.

"Indeed," he smiled, pulling out a fresh piece of paper, prepared the ink, drew the outlines and filled in the colours. Delight brightened up her little face when he handed her a painting with several norang-nabis and horang-nabis fluttering among fresh green grass with a glorious blooming flower. He watched her as she skipped off to her playmates who were playing "house" nearby, eager to share with them.

"Here." A hand thrust a plate of jindallae-hwajeon before him, azaleas decorating their surfaces. "Be careful, they're hot," Jeong-hyang added as she sat down.

"Did you manage to eat something?" he asked anxiously. The food rations had ensured there was enough but she had gone lean and so had he, he knew.

"You worry too much, of course I did. Stop trying to give me your share," she nudged his arm, prompting him to eat the the hwajeon. He blew lightly on the cakes before gingerly lifting one. It was thinner than usual but that was expected.

"I'll have to ask halmoni Nam to show me how she cooked the hwamyeon. The taste was unique," she continued before leaning over to look at the painting on the ground. "Are you sure it is a good idea to.."

"I planned to sketch and finish the rest at home. In fact, I'm done with it as it is," he laid the plate aside before rolling up the painting, comprehending her anxieties.

"Let me have those," she held her hand out for the used painting tools, taking them away to wash in the stream as he picked up the plate again, finished the cakes and returned the plate to one of the bustling women. When she returned, he was waiting, painting tube, bow and quiver slung across a shoulder.

"Shall we go for a walk?" he suggested as he returned the cleaned painting tools to their pouches. "You have been busy all morning."

A few pair of eyes watched them as they strolled back to where the men were still at the archery competition, though now they had flower cakes to munch on in addition to the dungyeon-ju they were consuming with such relish. Yunbok could not help chuckling when he spied Bong-chol flat out on the ground, wondering if he had really tried shooting an arrow from such a position and shared the joke when Jeong-hyang wondered why he was laughing.

"You will laugh even more if you could have heard what the women were encouraging me to do," she reached out to hold the hand he offered once they were out of sight of the villagers.

"What?" Gently, he swept his free hand over the heads of the blooming flowers in the field they were passing through and held her hand more tightly as they began to ascend a slope. A breeze filled with the scent of flowers flowed around them.

"They advised me to visit the Samsin shrines between now and Ipha," she grinned at his look of puzzlement. "The three deities who influence conception and childbirth?"

"Ah!" he looked at her and they began to laugh in unison. The more they thought about it, the more humorous it was until they had to sit down, unable to walk further. "Is that the only subject they think about?" he coughed. "That day the ajumma came to show you how to make the doenjang? I swear they were measuring me up and finding me lacking," he coughed again, trying to stifle his bubbling amusement.

"You can't blame them, we are after all, the newly wedded couple," she wiped tears from her eyes.

"Then you better hurry up and present them with some evidence," he choked.

"Don't you have a part?" she nudged him in the side.

"Me? What do I have to do with it? It's always been the saying that women are somehow at fault when no babies are forthcoming...ouch!" he yelped as she pinched him.

"And aren't you one? Why lay everything on me? Didn't you say the ajumma were measuring you and found you lacking?"

"I can blame it on Bong-chol for my lacks," he hurriedly caught her in an embrace. "He shot the arrow at me!" he whined nasally and then paused in surprise. "Look." he pointed to the blooms around them and stretched forth a hand to cup it around the butterflies fluttering about. "You know what they say, if you believe they bring good omens and that all your wishes will be fulfilled." Slowly, he brought to her the butterflies that had alighted on his palm. "Make your wish now, since they have honored us by appearing." Smiling, she closed her eyes, thinking hard before opening them again. They watched as the butterflies eventually fluttered away to the flowers.

"I came across such beautiful fields in spring and summer," he murmured as she leant back against him. "And I looked fervently for the butterflies, casting my wishes on them when I see them. Hoping against all hope they would come true."

"What did you wish for?"

"Safety for those I left behind, for those I miss. Peace for those who are gone, for those who had suffered, for the days to come for everyone."

"What about yourself?"

"... only for a place to rest, to forget..."

"Is that all?"

"No...I wondered where you were, how you were doing. Were you happy? And... I wished I was with you because I really missed you."

High up above them, long grasses rustled as fingers parted them. A sneeze was hastily stifled and a head was quickly withdrawn as two more lifted.

"What do you see?"

"They're just sitting down, laughing."

"Is that all? Do you want to move nearer?"

"And be discovered?"

"We shouldn't be here."

"What now?"

"What? It's your idea to follow them."

"We shouldn't be here."

"Aboji said we must help look out for strangers."

"Yes, but they are not strangers you dolt! You..."

"ooohh..."

"We shouldn't be here..."

"What? What?"

"He's hugging her."

"Really? Let me see!"

"We shouldn't be ..."

"Here, I know, Be quiet!..."

"Is he...?"

"Really, we should just go..."

"I wonder how it feels like..."

"Wait another four years and you will find out. We should..."

"I don't remember seeing aboji and omoni doing this..."

"That's because you were not following them around!"

"They don't even go for walks like this."

"I think it must be nice..."

"Do you really want to know? Here let me try it on you..."

"Ow! Get off my neck!"

"They heard us. We better go."

"Do you hear something?" Yunbok lifted his head. He thought he heard what sounded like a slap and a faint yelp from behind them and turned to look up the slope but all he saw was the lush green growth of tall grasses.

"You did, I saw the top of somebody's head," she said, craning to look as well. "I think it's just some curious youngsters who followed us. You did ask haraboji Yoo and the villagers to keep a lookout for strangers."

"Yes but we are not strangers. Maybe joining the villagers for Samjit-nal is a bad idea."

"You have been keeping yourself aloof from them, it's time to change that," she nudged him reprovingly.

"You know why," he caught her hand in his. "Unwanted attentions."

"It can't go on indefinitely, you know. Besides, you won't be getting any more of those now that I'm here."

"My saviour," he grinned.

"Is that all?" she drew him to her.

_How do the green mountains_  
_through the ages remain green?_  
_How do the flowing waters_  
_day and night keep flowing?_  
_Let us not cease either but_  
_through the ages remain green._

He recited as he looked up from the painting, viewing her critically as she sat among the flowers, folding grasses into a grasshopper. His heart seemed to stop when she smiled at him. Unnoticed, a shadow glided past above, sweeping past the almost blindingly bright glare of the blooms. Dark eyes looked into the distance as they spied the black spots standing vigil on the rocks. It flapped its wings, adding its call to that of its waiting brethren before joining them, cocking its head this way and that. The dissonance grew as the group slowly expanded until the hillsides were almost resonating to the noise.

He paused as he kept the painting tools. "Do you hear that?" he glanced about, puzzled.

"Are they back?" she looked up the slope but could see nothing.

"No, it's not that," he stood up and looked around for the noise. "Hyangya, come, it's time to go," he said hurriedly once he spotted the source, reaching to pull her to her feet. "Quickly!"

"What's wrong?" The flare of alarm in his eyes and his urgency ignited her anxiety.

"No time!" he grabbed her hand and began to tow her across the field. "I hope we're not too late."

"What is it?" she hastened her pace so she was abreast of him.

"Those crows...in the distance," he pointed to the birds in the air, circling above a spot. "A group that gathered could only mean someone is dying or is dead. I've seen it before."

"It might not be someone, it could be some animal," she could almost taste his fear.

"I hope you are right," he said and fell silent. They hurried as best as they could until they were along the rocky terrain that formed a small gorge that carried the stream that flow past Uiryeong. "Watch where you step," he warned as the ground became uneven. The cawing became louder and now they could hear wailing. That sounded like.. They looked at each other and tried to make haste. The crows scattered once they reached the spot where the wailing was loudest. It came from below their feet, they realized as they looked around. As they peered over the edge, they saw a woman and a child lying on the ledge below.

"It's not too far down, I'll climb down and see if they are all right," Yunbok said, untying his gat, handing his pack, painting tube, bow and quiver to Jeong-hyang who watched anxiously as he carefully descended, testing each footing. Once he reached the ledge, he checked the wailing child. A boy who appeared to be at least two years old. There were scratches on his face and hands and a bump on the side of his head, from the fall, Yunbok supposed. Other than that, he seemed all right. The woman, his heart seized the moment he saw her and he knew he had very little time the moment he saw her condition. It was fortunate she was conscious otherwise there was no chance that his plan would work.

"Hyangya, I'm handing the boy to you, can you reach him?" Yunbok held the boy over his head.

"Yes," she reached down and pulled the crying boy up.

"I need you to toss down your jangot," Yunbok said as he untie his sadae, goreum and removed his durumagi. Giving the boy a quick soothing pat on the back, Jeong-hyang threw down the jangot which he caught.

"Are you sure you can do it?" she said, knowing what he intended.

"There is no time to get help, the longer we wait, the worst she will be." Although a difficult maneuver, he knelt down and pulled the woman to lean against his back, drapping her arms over his shoulders before he tied the jangot around their waists. Heaving her up so that she would be more secure, he looped the sadae around her arms. His coat he tied around himself. "Can you hear me?" he said.

"Yes..," he could barely hear her voice, so weak was it.

"I need you to hold on as best you can, can you do it?"

"I'll...try."

"Hyangya," carefully, he stood, feeling the woman using what strength she had to grasp and threw up the other end of his coat to Jeong-hyang. "Don't try to hold on if I tell you to let go."

"... all right," she said, gripping the end tightly, knowing she would not let go even if he told her to.

Taking a deep breath, he began to climb. Due to her frail condition, the woman was light but still, climbing to the upper ledge took the best of his strength. Once he reached the top, Jeong-hyang added her efforts to pull them up.

"Come on," he panted, struggling to keep to his feet, gripping the woman's legs to hold her more securely.

"Wait!" Jeong-hyang untied the coat, tossed the painting tools, painting tube, bow, quiver and gat into the folds and gathered up the crying boy. "Where are we heading to?" she said as she followed him.

"The paper mill, it's too far to the picnic area," he blinked as beads of sweat rolled into his eyes. "I hope master Park has not gone off again."

The shriek of the crows' displeasure at the lost of prey heralded their departure. Although his legs threatened to buckle halfway through the trek to the paper mill, Yunbok gritted his teeth and hung on. The wavering breaths of the woman's against his neck and the sobbing hiccups of the boy gave him impetus to get the two as fast as he could to shelter and care. There were times when he was nearly pitched to his face as he fought to keep upright. Taking brief rests now and then, he was able to keep forging ahead. The sight of the paper mill as they reached the top of the path was an immense relief. To Yunbok's glad eyes, Suk-kwon was in the workyard, Jeong-hyang picked up her chima and ran down to him. The older man dropped whatever he was doing and ran across the pathway.

"Can you hold on? Get her to my house," Suk-kwon said as he hurried to Yunbok who nodded as he crossed the creek. "Hang on rascal."

Puffing heavily, Yunbok stumbled into Suk-kwon's daecheong as his master untied the sadae around the woman's arms, removed the jangot and helped to lower her to the floor. Reeling, Yunbok half fell to the floor, wincing at the pain flashing up and down his back.

"Lie down and rest, don't move for a while," Suk-kwon said as he checked the woman. Jeong-hyang deposited the boy on Yunbok, placing the painting tube and bundled up coat beside him as she hurried into the kitchen. Yunbok sighed as the pain subsided into aches. The weight on his stomach reminded him of the boy who had ceased crying and was hiccuping now and then.

"Here, little one," he murmured, patting the boy's back gently. "You're safe now." The boy regarded him blankly before sticking a thumb into his mouth, looking this way and that.

"The water is heating. How is she?" Jeong-hyang said as she came back into the room. Suk-kwon shook his head as he took the woman's pulse.

"She's very weak," he said quietly. "Too pale and too thin," he silently gestured to the woman's ragged clothing. "She has been going without a proper meal for quite some time. She is worse than you were when you first came here, rascal. But you were not so far from being in the same condition then."

That statement took Yunbok by surprise. Why was Suk-kwon talking about that? Then he looked at Jeong-hyang and directed an accusing glare at the older man who looked back impacably. He swallowed his angry retort and turned his attention to the boy.

"I would not be surprised if she gave all she had to the boy," the older man sighed heavily.

"I will prepare simple broths for her," Jeong-hyang said pensively, feeling sorrow for the woman's sufferings and reflecting over Suk-kwon's revealing statement. She could easily imagine Yunbok's condition by looking at the woman and she was horrified by the thought that was how he had been.

"Yes," Suk-kwon nodded. "Nothing heavy, just plain soups and so on. I do not know if she will live, her pulse is extremely faint and unsteady. It's best we get a physician as soon as possible from town. Let me take a look at the boy," he held out his hands for the child. "He's relatively healthy at least," he said, gently examining the boy who tried to pull at the older man's beard. "See if he will take to the soups. If not, you'll have to find someone in the village to nurse him."

"That reminds me, I'll have to let them know where we are," Yunbok got to his feet, picking up his gat and slipping on his durumagi. "Before they panic and start searching for us," he nodded to them as he tied the sadae and headed out the front door.

"He's not happy I told you what he was like when he arrived," Suk-kwon observed.

"I'm glad you did. He might be amiable to talking about that year now but he's still trying to block out the traumatic incidents from me and himself," she said as an after thought and got up hastily. "The water must be boiling," she hurried into the kitchen.

His master need not have to divulge the state of his condition, Yunbok fumed as he made his way down to the village. What was the point of palavering over it? The village was mostly deserted as he made his way to the path that led to the hills and stopped when he recognized the few men descending it. They hailed him when they saw him. As he had thought, he and Jeong-hyang were missed and haraboji Yoo had sent them back to the village to see if they were there.

They were astonished to hear what he had to say and one of them volunteered to fetch the physician, an offer Yunbok was only to glad to accept as his back was still aching. The rest decided to return to the picnic area to help with the clearing up besides reporting to the village chief. When he returned to the paper mill, he was startled to see Suk-kwon walking up and down the porch of his house with the boy whow as wailing loudly.

"She's cleaning up the woman," Suk-kwon said as Yunbok went up to him, juggling the boy up and down. "And I think this little fellow's hungry but he'll have to wait a while yet."

"I don't think you're doing him any good by...," Yunbok began and hastily held the boy when Suk-kwon dumped the child unceremoniously on him.

"I'm not one to argue, you should know better," Suk-kwon said, grinning at the irritated look thrown at him.

"That's a stupid..."

"It's not," Suk-kwon interrupted, nodding at the boy who had stopped his cries. "You're a natural. I'm going to check the medicine. He's all yours since he's taken to you."

A natural, Yunbok snorted at that silly remark. Anyone would know better than to jiggle a child up and down like his master did. Sighing, he sat down at the porch, looking down at the boy who had his thumb back in his mouth. It looked as if he had been washed; his face, arms were clean and so were the cuts he had sustained. Removing his thumb, he reached out to grab hold of the knotted hat strings under Yunbok's chin. Smiling at the boy's curiosity, Yunbok let him explored.

"Ouch, no slapping," he winced when the boy used his hands to pat his face, a little too hard.

"Ooommma!" the boy said suddenly, startling Yunbok.

"Not me," he said grinning. "Aaaa-jo-shi...can you say that?"

"Ooommma!" the boy insisted, attempting to pull the hat strings apart.

"You are a strong fella," Yunbok muttered as he tried to pry the boy's hands off the strings. The door behind him opened in the middle of the tussle.

"What are you doing?" said Jeong-hyang. "Never mind, bring him in. Let's see if he will drink some of the soup."

"Ooommma!" the boy seemed fixated on that word as Yunbok carried him into the house. Not a surprise since his mother was all he knew. Yunbok wondered what had happened to the father as he sat down in a corner to keep out of the way. Expecting the boy to launch into complete sentences was a little too early.

"Here," Jeong-hyang placed a bowl and a spoon on a soban near him. "I'm going to help master Park with his mother, you feed him."

Feed him? That should be easy. Yunbok regarded the boy warily and gingerly proffered a spoonful of soup towards him. The boy opened his mouth readily and swallowed, to his relief. After several more spoonfuls, he became more confident. Until...

"Whoa!" hastily, he lurched backward as the boy made a sudden grab for the bowl, splashing soup on himself.

"Ooommma!" the boy pronounced again, upsetting the bowl completely on Yunbok, getting up and trying once more to strangle him with the hat strings.

"You are ...," Yunbok began when someone called outside. Hastily, he grabbed hold of the boy and opened the door to see the villager who had volunteered to fetch the physician standing outside with him and a female healer along with haraboji Yoo and a few of the village women. "Please come in," he said to the physician.

"Sonbaenim, let me have him," said one of the village women, summing up what had happened to him at a glance, holding out her hands.

"I was trying to feed him some soup," he explained, gratefully relinguishing the boy to her. "Please, shall we go to my house?" he looked at haraboji Yoo who waved to him to lead on. Inviting Dae-jung to sit once they were at his house, Yunbok excused himself to change into dry clothing. He returned to see Suk-kwon chatting with old man. Both were keen to know how he had found the woman and child so he recapped everything for them. Dae-jung nodded thoughtfully as he listened.

"Has she said anything to you?" he asked Yunbok.

"No, she has not."

"Although her clothing are dirty and ragged, they are of good homespun," Suk-kwon put in. "It is possible she is one of those farming folk who has fallen on hard times. Very likely a refugee from one of the affected provinces."

"Something must have happened to her husband then or she would not be alone," Dae-jung speculated, accepting Suk-kwon's hypothesis. "What does the physician say?"

"That she is extremely weak and has gone for a long time without proper meals. He is not confident she will live."

"We can only hope for the best," Dae-jung sighed sadly. "If it comes to pass she does not survive, there is the matter of her child. I will ask around if any of the families are willing to take him."

"Perhaps she will be able to tell us more of herself later, we can then hand the child over to her relatives," Yunbok said as Dae-jung nodded in agreement and then took his leave.

With the women at his house, Suk-kwon elected to temporarily move to Yunbok's house to stay. Ae-young returned to prepare the meals, passing on the news that the patient was resting and able to eat a little, before returning to help the other women. Rolling out the half-finished painting of the women at the picnic, Yunbok resumed work on it as Suk-kwon toiled on the ledgers.

"Have you considered taking the boy?"

Yunbok almost did not hear the question, so absorbed was he in the painting. For a moment, he thought the question was directed at someone else and looked up blankly. "What?" Was his master joking?

"From what I saw, she is not likely to recover. If she had any relatives to rely on, she would not be out here. She lived somewhere once. Where are her neighbours? Her friends?" said Suk-kwon without looking up from the books. "If she passes on without leaving any further information, that will leave the boy. Most of the families in the village have children of their own. I'm not saying they will not accept another, but it is a fact another mouth will be a strain. Especially more so with the current food crisis. You can make it easy on them if you adopt the boy, being newly married with no children."

Putting down the brush, Yunbok stared at Suk-kwon. His suggestion seemed ludicrous to him. "What you say about her is plausible. Have you considered that she might be on her way to her relatives?"

"True," Suk-kwon conceded. "But I don't think that's what she was doing. A letter to appeal for help would have been more prudent. Whichever it is, what do you think of taking in the boy?"

"I..," Yunbok did not know what to envision should he and Jeong-hyang adopt the boy. Was he to assume the role of father to the boy? It was one thing to present a facade to the public but to extend that to a domestic setting of raising a child? "I'm not sure I am up to the challenge of being a parent," he said finally.s

"That's not the entire dilemma you are concern with," Suk-kwon said shrewdly. "You have already said it. Parent. What is being a parent about? To nurture, to care, to love, to teach a young one. What else are you worried about?"

"You do know that boy will turn into a young man? I'm not sure I can handle it quite that far."

"Can you see that well into the future? Is it that predictable?"

"If only if it were so," snorted Yunbok. "Why are you so keen on our adopting that boy?"

"Because he will form the cornerstone of this family you have."

That simple statement was a revelation to Yunbok. He paused to deliberate over it. Suk-kwon fell silent, knowing his apprentice had recognized the truth of it. No doubt the two had their own plans and objectives to achieve but there would come a time when they would be missing that one thing that formed every family. It was something he himself had often wished for but it as not to be, his chance for a family had vanished once his beloved was gone and he had vowed never to take another. Then Yunbok had come along and he found in him the child he never had. Hence, this was a good opportunity his apprentice should take, despite his dilemma. He was confident that the duo would come to love the boy as their own.

"I'll have to talk it over with Jeong-hyang," Yunbok said finally. It was not something he could decide by himself.

"Definitely though I'm sure she'll be receptive to the idea," Suk-kwon was pleased with that positive answer.

Although Yunbok could discern the core of his master's suggestion, still, he could almost predict the kind of problems that would emerge once the boy became older when he would begin to question and desire answers. How was he deal with them? These thoughts whirled in his head as he finished the painting. By then, it was the beginning of third watch and Jeong-hyang was not back. Thinking she would be looking after the woman through the night, he went to bed. Leaving Suk-kwon to settle down in the daecheong. But he could not sleep, various scenarios kept cropping up in his head as he lay in his bedding.

Thump! He woke with a start from the sleep he had fallen into as something hit his leg hard.

"Ouch!" he yelped as pain ran up his leg and something heavy, came down on him with an unpleasant jab to the stomach. "Ooof!" What was that?

"I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?!" came Jeong-hyang's apologetic voice.

"Whatever happened?" he wheezed for his breath was knocked out of him. As he regained his breath, he realized she had apparently fallen on him in the dark. It was unlike her. "Why didn't you light an oil lamp?"

"I tripped," her voice sounded weary. Exhausted. "I wasn't thinking properly."

"It's all right. Just lie down," he stopped her as she made to get up. With a sigh, she settled against him. Whatever had she been doing over there, he wondered, patting her back soothingly. "I''m surprised you didn't step on master Park in the daecheong."

"He is snoring so loudly, it's hard to miss him," she laughed softly.

"How is she?"

"Still the same. She did give us her name, Chui Min-soo," she murmured, the sound of his voice and heartbeat comforting and lulling her steadily into slumber. "But I don't think she will live past tomorrow."

"Master Park made a suggestion earlier, he feels that we should take in the boy if she passes on. What do you think?"

"I think..that's a good idea..," she mumbled.

"You think so? I'm not so sure myself. Perhaps I'll be able to take on the mantle of being a father but how long can I keep such a secret from the boy once he grows up? Should I tell him who and what I am once he comes to maturity? WIll he understand? I'm not even sure I'll be a good parent."

"Everyone has to...start out somewhere...," her voice was so soft he had to strain to hear.

"True, but you understand my concerns, don't you..," he paused as he realized she had fallen asleep from her even breathing. He sighed. They could pick this up again in the morning. He tried to pull the cover over her. But she was weighing down half of it and he was reluctant to move her around since she was so tired. If he could slide out, he gave up that idea when she tightened her hold on him. He settled on drapping her with the lower edge of the cover and mulled over the questions again.

A nerve twitched. Jeong-hyang opened her eyes as fear streaked through her. Painter! In a moment of panic, she sat up, looking around her frantically. Her eyes fell on a sleeping Yunbok and her heart calmed. She sighed in relief. Healthy and fit. Gently, she trailed a finger over his face, it was only a nightmare she had. Brought on by the sight of the poor woman and what Suk-kwon had said yesterday. He would not be happy if he knew how adversely affected she was. She frowned. Was he saying something to her last night?

"What's making you frown?" She looked down to see him smiling at her, his hand reaching to grasp her own that was touching his face.

"Did I wake you? I was trying to remember what you were saying last night."

"Master Park suggests that we take the boy if his mother passes on."

"You are worried."

"Shouldn't I be? He will be a young man one day and I don't know if I can keep my secrets from him indefinitely. How will he react then? And I'm not sure I am the appropriate role model for him. Besides, what do we know about raising a child? What do you think? How do you feel about adopting him?"

"He does settle the question of my productivity, doesn't he?" she said with wry humour. "I cannot say I'm ready to be a parent either. But I am prepared to give this unfortunate child all the care and love he needs because that is what is important right now. Are you ready to do likewise? That is what you should ask yourself. It is too early to worry over the implications of what might happen later once or if he knows the truth. If we take him, we have to be confident that our love and guidance will be enough to tide over what may come later."

As he contemplated her words, she laid back down against him, seeking to dispel the nightmare visions that still lingered, with his warm living presence.

"Is something wrong?" he said, sensing her disquiet.

"I had a bad dream. So ill was it I will not speak of it."

"Not of me, was it?" he asked. When she said nothing, he said angrily, "I knew it. Why did he have to say those things yesterday?!"

"But it is the truth."

"Truth or not, it was unnecessary."

"He did that because he knows I want to know. You have touched on that brutal slaying and violation of that day, but not everything in that year you were alone. I need to know, Painter. You are not what you were before, I don't know you any more.."

"That's nonsense," he muttered, resting his arm over his eyes to shut out the light that was suddenly too bright. "There is no change." That statement sounded weak, even to him.

"Will you not build the bridge?" she said, after a moment of silence. "I have built mine. Meet me there, Painter. I am waiting for you." Still, he remained silent. This was her moment, she felt. If she failed to get him to talk now, opportunity may not come by in many seasons. "Will you make me wait forever? Because I will if that is what you want. Are we only together just to share the joys? Why do you want to hide? Do you think to keep me safe from your sorrows? But you are abandoning me by doing so, making me walk alone. You cast me into mourning because you do not want me with you, to share in everything."

"I don't want you ..."

"Sonbadaneuro haneuleul gariryeohhanda. It has been too long. Tell me."

He sighed at her insistence. So be it.

"I thought I knew what fear is. I faced it when his Majesty sentenced me to death. The ending of the road, a yawning emptiness that sunder all dreams. I did not realise then, that death was a mercy. Fear is what drove me from Hanseong. It is what guided my feet from that day onwards in my journey. I saw the cruelty of pain, the depravity of desires, the malicousness of intent to inflict suffering, the cold hearts that held no mercy, the hands that hold the flail to drive despair before them. The wretchness of those who are homeless, driven to run. Those who are left behind, left to shoulder yet another burden of the failures. Yet, in their sufferings, they have one another. I have never felt so alone in my fear. I have no one. Never felt so weak. There was no place to hide. I wished I had died with my parents, then I would not feel so worthless..."

Caught in his memories, he released the floodgates of his feelings as she listened, and did not notice her silent tears as he spoke of his loneliness, his despair, his rage at what fate had brought him to. To be robbed of self, used and discarded, hunger and cold nights. Few were the moments in which a little joy went his way.

As she listened, she was grateful that he had those but it was appalling to hear the bitterness of his travels. How did he ever survived through it, she could hardly imagine. The strength of his will, she realized, had been his bastion and even that, according to master Park, had been crumbling when he finally arrived at the paper mill. With all her heart, she was grateful that his Majesty had seen fit to allow Yunbok to find his place, that it was master Park who had set Yunbok on the mend.

It eased her that he was willing to speak of his journey for it meant she had succeeded in pushing him onto the road of healing. How long he spoke, she had no idea, but she clutched at him when there came a soft calling outside the door. He stopped speaking and removed the arm from his eyes as he listened.

"Master Seo? Mistress? She is calling for you."

It was Ae-young. They looked at each other and got up, Jeong-hyang hastily wiped away her tears on a fold of her chima as Yunbok drew on his beoseon before hurrying over to Suk-kwon's house. Dae-jung, Suk-kwon and a few men were already there, waiting. The village women were gathered at the porch, murmuring quietly amongst themselves. There was an air of grave sorrow and expectation hovering over everyone.

"She wished to speak to the both of you. All is prepared," one of them said quietly when they entered the daecheong, handing the boy to Jeong-hyang before withdrawing to the courtyard outside with the others. Silently, they sat down to hear what the woman, Min-soo, had to say. So faint was her voice that they had to lean close to hear them.

Yunbok bowed his head when all was still, checked Min-soo's pulse of which there was nothing to be felt. He placed a piece of cotton under the nose and watched closely but there was no movement. He then looked at Jeong-hyang, who nodded in agreement and handed him fresh pieces of cotton which he used to plug the mouth and nose of the body. She handed him Min-soo's discarded jeogori which he took outside. After a brief discussion with Dae-jung, he informed the village chief that as he would be adopting the boy, he was considered part of Min-soo's family so he would be responsible for her funeral. At that declaration, Dae-jung sent one of the men to announce the death to the rest of the villagers and to help prepare.

Standing at the courtyard, Yunbok handed the jeogari to Suk-kwon who called out Min-soo's name three times, ritually ending with bok before throwing the jeogori onto the roof. Whatever furniture or items there were in the daecheong was swiftly removed. A table was set up in the courtyard: three bowls of rice, vegetables, soup, three glasses of wine, three dried whiting fish, coins and three pairs of straw shoes. Villagers moved to and fro from the paper mill, bringing in all the necessary items.

Meanwhile, the body was washed, dressed and placed on a slab, arms and feet bound before it was covered with a white sheet. A byeongpung hid the body from sight. A knotted string was placed in a small box on the small table before the screen. The boy fussed a little when he was dressed in white clothes and fingered the dangling right sleeve of the jacket he was wearing. Similarly attired in white, Yun-bok and Suk-kwon, with a couple of other men saw to the visitors who trooped up from the village as Dae-jung read the scriptures. The women worked through the night to sew the mourning clothes.

The next day, the jeogori on the roof was taken down, the corpse was washed, its hair combed and dressed in prepared clothes. Three spoonfuls of rice and an old coin was put into the mouth and the head covered before it was shrouded in seven layers and placed in the coffin. The clothes that Min-soo had worn were placed within, the coffin closed and bound with three strips of cloth. Wine was dedicated and the mourners took their bows.

Dae-jung knew a good myeongdang so men were sent to prepare the grave on the morning of the third day. Chang-sun ritually broke a gourd when the coffin was brought out to the courtyard. Wine was dedicated once more and bows taken before the coffin was taken to the village and then to the grave site. The tablet was borne back to the house while the workers finished the grave mound. In the days that followed, they observed the rituals. On the first commemoration day, Dae-jung drew Yun-bok and Jeong-hyang aside for a brief discussion on the child.

"May fortune and happiness smile upon you for your generosity," Dae-jung said, smiling with approval as he looked at the boy in Jeong-hyang's arms. "The census will be held next year, it shall be noted. What is to be his amyeong?"

Yunbok glanced at Jeong-hyang. They had not really decided on one but, she lifted an eyebrow, indicated she was letting him pick a name. He turned back to Dae-jung.

"P'ado."

* * *

Korean Words

_amyeong - child nickname. Children are not called by their given names until they reached maturity_

_norang-nabis - pale yellow butterflies_

_hwajeon - flower cake_

_horang-nabis - yellow-black butterflies_

_myeongdang - grave site_

_ Sonbadaneuro haneuleul gariryeohhanda - don't try to cover the whole sky with the palm of your hand._

_Yeonggam and Miyal - mask dance that depicted a love triangle between a man, his wife and his concubine_


	7. Chapter 7

**Soman 1782**

The room was relatively quiet, the silence broken now and then by the tramp of footsteps and occasional muffled calls. The ledger was laid open before him on the table but Young-joon did not see it. Instead, rolling before him were visions of a gaily laughing girl. Days it had been. No, almost two months it had been and he had no success in finding out the identity of the girl. He had tried every means he could think of; talking to the maids, loitering now and then near the Meen residence, roaming the market in the hopes of running into the girl. The last was the slimest hope of all. After all, he could not very well peer into the jangot of every girl he saw on the streets. He was at the end of his wits and he did not know what to do. A rustle of cloth, the tread of footsteps and another book was set down before him. Yet another ledger. He shook himself out of his daydreams and anxieties.

"Did we order this much copper, Sang-ook?" Young-joon looked in amazement at the order inventory his warehouse supervisor handed to him. "And this much porcelain and steel?"

"Ah er... old master Han approved the orders, sir," Sang-ook fidgetted uncomfortably, not knowing how to put forth an answer that would satisfy the young man.

"Whom are we ordering for?" Young-joon flipped to the next page. His eyes fell on the name: Meen. Did this sudden influx of orders placed with the Meen had anything to do with his father's task? "Do you know anything else, Sang-ook?"

"Old master Han has ordered us to despatch the following items to the Meens: bolts of silk, furniture, brassware, pottery, cookware, bamboo blinds, mats ..."

Young-joon listened to the list in bewilderment. Was his father planning to furnish the Meens lock, stock and barrel? Those items were enough to supply a middle class family for an entire year!

"Why is my father ,er herm, er what is the reason for sending those?"

"I understand that the son will be married as soon as he returns from the trading expedition, so those are gifts." Frankly, Sang-ook thought the list extraordinarily excessive for wedding gifts but he had not dared not question the order given and had merely carried them out.

"Do you know to whom the son is marrying?" Young-joon tried to maintain his calm as he waited for the answer. Surely, it could not be her.

"I understand that she is the daughter of master Hong, a merchant who deals in ornaments and accessories."

"Er... do you know how old is she and ... her name?" Young-joon gazed coolly back at an extremely puzzled Sang-ook.

"I heard that she's about sixteen, named Su-dae."

"Do you know what she looked like?"

Sang-ook stared at Young-joon in confusion. Why did he want to know? "I wouldn't know, sir. I have never seen her before." His bewilderment increased at the disappointment in the young man's eyes. What did the marriage had to do with him?

Feeling in need of some air, Young-joon got up and stepped outside. The bustling around the warehouse only emphasized the turmoil in him so he decided to take a walk along the streets. How, how was he to find her? His eyes roved over the young women he passed, lingering on those whose coat hid their faces from him. He wished brother Seo was there to help with some ideas but his friend was preoccupied with tasks he had to attend to at the school, the village and then there was the new addition to his family.

He couldn't help but feel his father was putting an unnecssary burden on him when he knew who the girl was. Automatically, he dodged an ox cart that blocked his way along the street. Why did it have to be so crowded?! No, she could not be betrothed to the younger Meen, he was sure of it. But Sang-ook said she was sixteen, maybe the girl he saw was fifteen? He wished he was able to fly straight to his father's study room and asked.

In his desire to get home quickly, he tried to wind his way as fast as he would through the crowd at the marketplace, quailing his desire to elbow people out of the way. Once past the marketplace, his thoughts returned to the girl once more. What if she really was meant to marry the younger Meen? His heart quailed at what sort of life she would have if she married that scurrilous libertine. If his father was sending gifts, did that mean the son was returning home soon?

A small bevy of women swept out of a jumak, blocking his way. Was it women's day today? Stifling his impatience, he waited for them to finish their chattering farewells to one another. The group split up and he made for the cleared space, deep in thought as he continued on his way into the small paths off the main street. A laugh, then another, a murmur of voices. He blinked, that voice sounded familiar. Where was it coming from? He turned around. There were only two women behind him, a maid and her mistress who was cloaked. He looked around, puzzled. Another laugh and he realized it was coming from the cloaked woman. He tried to peer past the cloth covering the woman's face.

"It's you!" he froze in astonishment. The women stopped short at that exclamation, the hood falling back a little from the woman's face. It was the girl. "It is you!" he said again, rushing forward. "Tell me, what's your name?"

Taken aback, she stared at him before she retreated as her maid thrust herself forward. "You are rude. What is her name to you?"

"Please," he bowed deeply. "It is urgent."

"Urgent?" the maid scoffed. "Be off with you."

"Please, it really is important," he pleaded even as he racked his mind for some way of persuasion. "I'll bow ten times if need be."

Thoroughly puzzled at the insistence, the maid turned to her mistress. What was she to do? Young-joon waited with bated breath as they conferred softly. With a cough, the maid turned back to him.

"My mistress is the daughter of master Hong."

His heart plummeted. "Master Hong. The merchant who deals in ornaments and accessories?"

"You have heard of my master then?"

"Please, is your mistress's name...Su-dae?"

"How dare you?" exclaimed the maid, outraged.

"No, no," his head snapped up and his eyes met those of the astonished girl, Su-dae. "You...you can't marry young master Meen." Before they knew what he was about, he stepped forward and grabbed Su-dae's hand.

"What...what..what are you doing?" she stood petrified as he tugged.

"Come on!" With only the thought he had to get her away stark in his mind, he dragged her after him.

"Stop! Let me go!" she screamed, trying to pull away. "Chun-he!" she looked back at her maid who stood thunderstruck before she galvanised into action.

"You! Stop!" she chased after them and grabbed hold of Young-joon's coat when she caught up. "Stop! Where are you going with my mistress!" she shouted in outrage.

"Look, you can't marry him, he'll kill you," Young-joon whirled round on Su-dae who struggled to tug her hand from his.

"What are you talking about? I don't know you." Was this man mad?

"You lout, let go of my mistress!"

"Look, I'm sorry but really, you have to get out of your engagement," Young-joon ignored the maid as she tried to pull him away. Failing that, she put herself between Su-dae and him.

"I'm really sorry, I think you have mistaken me for someone else," Su-dae huddled behind Chun-he though her hand was still held fast. Who was this crazy young man? He looked rather familiar though.

"If you have some sense of decency, please go away!" said the maid.

"Aren't you engaged to be married to the Meen's son?"

"What is that to you?" Chun-he tried to pry Young-joon's hand from Su-dae's. "I'll really scream if you don't let go of my mistress's hand."

"Haven't you heard of the crimes he had done? How can you marry such a person?"

"Are you mad? What...," began Chun-he furiously and stopped short when Su-dae spoke up behind her. Although it was breaking etiquette by speaking directly to him, nevertheless she was moved by this strange young man's evident concern for her.

"I have no say as to whom I marry."

"That...that is true," Young-joon let go of her hand and clapped his own to his head. What was he about? "Then...do you know when will he be back?"

"I heard that he is due any day now," Su-dae peered over Chun-he's shoulder. Ah, she remembered where she had seen him. He was the man who had been peeping over the wall.

"When is the marriage?"

"Sometime in Mangjong."

"I...I was rude earlier. I'm sorry. My apologies," not knowing what to think, Young-joon backed away.

"Wait," Su-dae stopped him as he was about to walk away. "Who are you?"

"I'm from Hansang. My apologies again," Young-joon bowed before departing with a heavy heart. There did not seem like there was anything he could do. What did it matter that he knew who she was?

The servant that opened the gate to him when he reached home wondered what had happened when he saw Young-joon's despondency. He made his way to his study room and threw himself down on the poryo. He got up again when a servant passed the message that his father requested his presence and made his way to the master study room.

"Did what I order for master Meen come in?" said old master Han, not noticing Young-joon's dejection.

"Yes aboji."

"Good, good. I want you to send the porcelain and copper to this location instead of releasing it to the dealers," he handed a piece of paper over without looking up from the letter he was perusing.

"Yes aboji."

"Has Sang-ook prepared the gifts?"

"Yes, aboji."

"What's the matter with you?" old master Han was puzzled at the monosyllabic answers he was getting from his son and finally looked up.

"Aboji, what's the whole point of my knowing who she is when I can do nothing about her impending marriage?"

"Ah, so," old master Han understood then what was troubling his son. "If you really want to marry the girl yourself, you have to be patient."

"Aboji, it's already Soman!" Young-joon almost wailed. "There are only two weeks left at best and he is due back any time now. It may not even be a Mangjong marriage. Is there really enough time left to do what you have to do?"

"Perhaps, there is always an element of risk in these matters."

"Aboji!"

"Really, if you cannot trust your father to handle it, whom can you trust?"

At that, Young-joon fell silent, abashed that his father thought he had no confidence in him but that was not what he meant. There was too little time left for his father to find the evidence he needed, he felt.

"I want you to pass on what you have learnt about his imminent return to Mr Seo, so he can make preparations in case that fellow tries anything," old master continued.

"Yes, aboji, I'll do that tomorrow morning when I see him at the seodang."

At that, his father dismissed him. Little assurance as it was, he had to be satisfied with the answers he had gotten. That night, he could not sleep, tossing and turning in his bedding and got up the next morning with the most disgruntled look on his face such that the students he had charge of at the seodang, having perceived his bad mood, exerted more effort that morning. When class was dismissed after they had cleaned up their writing tools, he gathered up the papers, books, a package he had brought with him and followed Yunbok out of the seodang.

"Would you care for a drink, brother Han?" said Yunbok as he locked the doors.

"If it is no trouble, I have news to share."

"Ah, that accounts for your bad mood, I see." Yunbok nodded and said no more. He could guess what news Young-joon might be sharing and was contemplative. "Mangjong is early this year."

"Is that important?"

"It is to the farmers for it meant a good barley crop next year. Just as the disappearance of gongmiri is of great import. If they are gone suddenly, the heat of summer is expected to arrive early. If they linger, then summer heat will occur later," Yunbok waved at the fields where farmers were busy harvesting barley and transplanting rice as they walked along the street in the village. The songs they sang as they worked carried across to them clearly in the air. "For a good harvest, summer has to be right. A bad summer heralds drought, which every farmer fears. The success of the harvest has never been more stressed at than this year."

"That is true," Young-joon nodded. "There is less grain to be had for now but ports and fishing villages have been encouraged to send more catches inland so the crisis is definitely under control."

"The barley will be more than welcome." They looked at the distant fields of ripe barley, a beautiful sight to behold. "Is there any further news on the blighted farmlands?"

"I heard some of the less damaged lands are already repaired and farming has taken place," Young-joon paused to take in once more the ripe fields of barley at the top of the trail.

"That is encouraging!" Yun-bok led the way into an empty workyard.

"How is P'ado?"

Yunbok groaned. "His teeth is growing so we're having a few sleepless nights because they are troubling him."

"I never thought you'll be a father so soon," laughed Young-joon and called to Suk-kwon working on the vegetable patch. The older man waved back in greeting.

"Don't start, I'm beginning to regret it," Yunbok grimaced and then called out at the door before opening it for Young-joon who stopped short as something barreled into him at speed, hitting him in the legs.

A pair of small arms wrapped themselves around his knees even as Ae-young reached forward.

"Ow!" he yelped, as little teeth sank into his leg.

"I'm so sorry, master Han!" Ae-young hurriedly pulled the boy away as Young-joon rubbed at the bitten spot in disbelief as Yunbok looked on in amusement. "He got away from me for a moment." she disappeared into the kitchen with the boy.

"Is that what he does to you?" Young-joon was tempted to pull up his paji to check the bite but decided he could live with it.

"I'm afraid so, he does it to my hand though. Please sit, brother Han, I'll get Jeong-hyang," Yunbok said before vanishing into the kitchen himself and returning a moment later. "She'll be here momentarily."

Young-joon did not bother to query why Yunbok was asking Jeong-hyang to join them. Clearly, he had guessed what news he brought. As they waited, they went over the students' work. Thus far, it was going well. Those who were slower were catching up. They were in the midst of a discussion over a particular student when Jeong-hyang came in with the refreshments.

"Will you stay for dinner, master Han?" she asked.

"Thank you but I'm afraid I can't," Young-joon said, after thinking it over. There were deliveries to make with the porcelain and copper, he had a feeling the faster he got them where they were supposed to be, the faster his problem would be resolved. As would his friend's. "Please accept this," he handed her the food package.

She smiled her thanks, accepting the gift; one of many he had been presenting to them every time he came to visit and went to the kitchen.

"How is it that you never put on weight, brother Seo?" Young-joon looked at the plate, it was tteokbokki and gotgam. He picked up a gotgam with anticipation and bit into it with relish. "The food she cooks is delicious despite these lean times."

"I'm afraid I can't really do justice to the meals she prepared. It's.. just that I have very little inclination to eat much," Yunbok said regretfully.

"I guess the work you do also takes it off you."

"That too," Yunbok nodded in agreement as he sipped the dongdongju. "So, I guess he is due back?" he looked gravely at Young-joon as Jeong-hyang returned and sat down.

"Yes, I don't have the exact date but it should be any day now, in Mangjong."

"Why Mangjong?" asked Yunbok curiously for his friend sounded very certain.

"That's when he's getting married which leads to my problem. The girl, Su-dae, is his bride. I met her yesterday."

"You met her?" Yunbok said in astonishment. "How did you manage that?"

"Ah..er well...," Young-joon fidgetted and then launched into a recount, leaving out his discourteous act. "My father told me to be patient but there're only days left!" he could not help wailing a little when he finished.

"Anything can happen in several days," Yunbok looked at Jeong-hyang uneasily. She said nothing but frowned a little.

"Perhaps. What plans have you in mind, brother Seo?" The anxious tone in his friend's voice only served to increase the tension in Yunbok.

"As of today, one of the Joon brothers will be permanently stationed here. I'll have to alert haraboji Yoo as well. Jeong-hyang," he looked at her. "will be accompanied at all times by one of the brothers whenever she goes out."

"How long does it stay that way?" she asked quietly.

"Until old master Han has accomplished his task. I presumed both Meen father and son will be detained for whatever misdeeds they have done. Only then, will it be safe."

"May it be soon," Young-joon wished fervently. "In the meantime, I will keep my eyes open and inform you the moment I receive news of his return."

"May the fates be kind, brother Han, to give you what you wish for," Yunbok smiled, lifting his cup to his friend with that toast.

"May we weather this storm with no mishap," Young-joon returned the toast.

The toasts stayed in Yunbok's mind as he saw off his friend later and made his way down to the village, he could only pray that all would be well. When he returned Suk-kwon was waiting for him in the daecheong with Jeong-hyang.

"I hope he's not that much of an idiot to come barging here," Suk-kwon said, after considering the precautions Yunbok had taken.

"If he does, he won't be alone. That's why I asked for the Joon brothers to take turns staying here." Will it be enough, Yunbok wondered.

"From tomorrow onwards, you have better take your staff with you, He may go for you first, if he really have any intentions towards Jeong-hyang."

"I see," Yunbok said slowly. The possibility that he could be targeted had not crossed his mind.

"For now, let's keep our wits and our eyes open eh? Don't let this person overshadow you, keep to your daily routines" Suk-kwon looked at Yun-bok and Jeong-hyang who nodded in agreement. "And whom do we have here?" he grinned as a small figure blundered into Yunbok from behind with Ae-young not far behind. She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw Yunbok taking charge. It had been difficult to keep him on her back, he had a tendency to wriggle or pull her braid and loosened the geumbak daenggi.

"Escaped again, I see," laughed Yunbok, catching hold of the boy who chortled.

"Better let me have him, it's tme for you to rest," Jeong-hyang said, holding her hands out for the child.

"I feel as if I'm the child, rest time?" grinned Yunbok but he leaned forward with the boy. They had come to this arrangement to make up for the lack of sleep during these few nights and in truth, he was looking forward to a nap. The boy squirmed, as if knowing he was to be shackled again.

"Aaapaaa!" he clutched at Yunbok who stared at him in surprise.

"That's the first time he called me that. Whatever happened to omma?"

"Oh you," Jeong-hyang lifted the boy away. "Go and rest."

"Go on with you," Suk-kwon waved at Yunbok to remove himself when he would have preferred to discuss the matter further. "You're looking a little haggard," he added before he got up to continue working on the vegetable patch.

But when Yunbok laid down, he could not sleep. His mind was clogged with all possible outcomes he could think of. Sighing, he turned on his side. That man was coming back anytime now. What would he do? He turned again. Trying to distract himself, he began to list out the chores he had to do. Check the roof for breakages, mend any holes for the summer rains would come soon. Weed the vegetable patch, hunt down bugs that would estroy the crops, prepare the talisman, get the jujube charcoal kindling. What else? Oh yes, he was supposed to help Sang-ki with the bees for this summer. He turned his head when the door opened.

"I knew you are not sleeping," Jeong-hyang said. "Here," she placed P'ado beside him.

"Aaaapaaa!" the boy threw himself on Yunbok, one of his hands hitting his eye.

"Ouch! You're a little terror. First Young-joon's leg, now my eye," his eye began to weep a little as he blinked to clear his vision.

"Just hold him," Jeong-hyang could not help grinning as she uncovered the gayageum. "Maybe he can share your nap with you."

"I fear he may bite off my nose next," Yunbok grabbed hold of the boy's hands, to keep them occupied before any more accidental jabbings occurred.

To his relief, the boy stopped to listen as she began to play the gayageum. He patted him gently on the back, to further lull him to sleep. His efforts were rewarded when the boy yawned and plopped his head down on the bedding. Gently, he laid him out flat.

"It's your turn," prompted Jeong-hyang softly.

"I'm not sure I can," he sighed, moving to the outer edge of the bedding so he would not disturb the boy.

"I know you can," she stopped playing and went to sit by him, stroking his brow lightly.

"Do you remember what I taught you?" he closed his eyes.

"Yes," she smiled as she recalled the many nights of tussles in which he showed her how to injure someone and get away.

"It may not be enough, you know that."

"I know. Have confidence in yourself. I trust in you, you will be there for me."

"Hmm..."

She smiled when she saw her little trick had worked, he had fallen asleep. It had never failed her, thus far. Her smile died away. With all her heart, she hoped the matter would come to an end without too much altercation. All she wanted was peaceful days with Yunbok. And P'ado, her gaze lighted on the slumbering boy. After the first several days of fuss which she suspected had been his wanting his mother, he had settled down quite well, enlivening the house with his antics as he learned to cope with the things and people around him.

She glanced at the windows, the day was getting on, she had better finished up the recent orders of needlework, she would not have time to do them at night now that there was a child to keep her occupied. Silently, she covered the gayegeum and put it away in the corner and left the room, casting a lingering glance at the sleeping occupants.

It was late afternoon by the time Young-joon returned to Uiryeong after making deliveries of the porcelain and copper. He was surprised to see Sang-ook along the street leading to the warehouse. The moment Sang-ook saw him, he hurried up to him, looking flustered.

"Young master, master Meen is..is here to see you," he stuttered.

"Master Meen? What does he want?"

"It's the son!" Sang-ook had a wild look in his eye. Young-joon stopped short, shocked. He was back, today? "And he ..he brought many people with him."

"What do you mean?"

"I..I don't know, they looked like workers but...," Sang-ook wrung his hands with anxiety.

"All right, stay calm. I'll see what he wants," taking a deep breath, Young-joon continued his way to the warehouse. Most of the workers were busy but there was an air of strain as they avoided the group of men standing in the workyard. From the changsan they wore and the queue wound around their heads, Young-joon knew they were not locals. They were Chinese and they did not look very friendly. They had the look of street toughs with that cold, shifty and belligerent carriage displayed arrogantly.

"Which one is the son?" he said softly to Sang-ook beside him. Surely the younger Meen had not gone "native"? Before the supervisor could answer, someone called aloud.

"You there. Are you the younger Han?" A young man dressed in fine silks pushed his way through the crowd of men. Young-joon shuttered his emotions at the rude statement and took an instant dislike the moment he saw the young man; thick eyebrows, sharp narrow face, shifty eyes like the father. He held himself with an air of superiority and insolence. Young-joon did a double take when he saw the young man was wearing a dopo. A coat restricted to the Yangban. Was he flaunting his disregard for rules or just plain stupid?

"Indeed, I am. You are?" he bowed politely.

"I'm Meen Hyun-su. I'm here to collect my wedding gifts which are due me," he said as Young-joon listened to the outrageous and crude assertion in disbelief. It was tempting to deny there was any such intention to present this horrible young fellow with the gifts. But he doubted his father would want a unpleasant contention to arise so he turned to the warehouse supervisor. "Indeed, they are ready, Sang-ook?"

"Yes, yes. I was going to send them off tomorrow," Sang-ook nodded vigorously.

"You don't have to bother. I brought some men to help out. You only need to show them where they are," Hyun-su gestured with his head to the men behind him.

"Sang-ook will show you," Young-joon nodded to the supervisor who bowed to Hyun-su and hurried off into the warehouse, followed by the Chinese men who shoved their way rudely through the workers.

Young-joon stood in the workyard with Hyun-su, who seemed not to care he was not afforded the courtesy of resting himself or offered any refreshments and seemed even less inclined to hold a conversation with his host. That suited Young-joon just fine for he did not think he could exchange a decent sentence with such an arrogant fellow. Hyun-su waited until the men loaded the horse cart they had brought along with the gifts before nodding to Young-joon and took himself off.

The man himself was far worse than any of them had thought, thought Young-joon as he stared after the group. Any precautions taken by brother Seo might not be enough if Hyun-su had so many men to do his bidding. It was vital he speak with his friend but first, he must consult his father. Leaving Sang-ook in charge, he hurried home.

"Aboji, may I come in?" he fidgetted impatiently outside his father's study room and nearly tripped in his rush to enter when his father answered. "Aboji, that..," he began to say as he walked in.

"He came back early this afternoon. I know what you want to say," old master Han gestured to his son to seat himself down.

"Then do you know he came to the warehouse to collect his wedding gifts?!" Young-joon tried to hold in his outrage. "He even brought a group of men with him. They looked like thugs! No," he corrected himself, "they are thugs and they are foreign."

"I know. Wait," old master Han put up a hand. "Just listen. That young man has cornered himself truly this time. His father has made a horrendous mistake regards this son of his. His plan of removing the son from gambling has failed. By sending him on the trading expedition, the son simply racked up more debts in the towns and cities he stopped at. Any debts he incurred he paid off by selling off his father's goods. It became even worst by the time he arrived in China. According to my informants, he created more chaos and committed more crimes there. In the course of this disastrous profligate gaming, carousing and licentious revelry, he fell in with a dubious cartel that engaged in slavery. His debt is so huge that even if he sells off his entire family fortune, he will not even pay off half of what he owes. These men with him, are the cartel's men, come to collect their due."

"But how is it he is allowed to accrue a debt that big? Did not his creditors hound him for payment?" As far as Young-joon knew, it was not the usual practice to continue lending when there was no hope of repayment.

"That is true but he may have told them his father is rich and made many promises that he has to honour now and he has to find the means to do so," old master Han shook his head for it was clear the Meen family were heading towards tragedy.

"What happens if he can't pay it? Will they kill him?" If they kill Hyun-su, that would indeed solve a couple of problems.

"What can they do with a dead body?" old master Han scoffed. "They won't get anything out of it. No, they will get all they can out of him over here. The rest of his debts, he will have to pay by any means, no matter what."

"He can run away, what's to stop him?"

"True, that is probably one of the reasons why they sent so many men. To keep an eye on him. But even if he manages to flee, he would have to live like a hermit because no doubt, they would spread the word and put a handsome price on his head. Such groups do not like to be cheated of what they are owed. That they allowed him to come home is an indication that they are very confident he would not be able to get away. No, he is shackled and he knows it. He will cause ruin to his family soon. I still do not have the evidence to convict the father, I need another few more days. In the mean time, alert Mr Seo and master Suk-kwon. But before you go to him, give this letter to the magistrate."

"Yes aboji."

"Haste, Young-joon."

It was the first time ever his father had urged him to hurry. It underscored the calamity that may befall his friend so he rushed out of the house, calling for a horse.

* * *

Korean Words

_geumbak daenggi - hair ribbon for girls_

_paji - trousers_


	8. Chapter 8

**Mangjong 1782**

"This tiger is a quiet one," Suk-kwon sighed as he sat at the porch with Yunbok, carving a wooden animal, watching Jeong-hyang and Ae-young meticulously spun silk from the silkworm cocoon fibres.

Ever since Young-joon had ridden up with the news three days ago, they had to revise their plans and opted to stay in the village where help was easily obtainable. They did not even visit Uiryeong on Dano, deciding it was too risky. Jeong-hyang's classes were suspended and Suk-kwon had to arrange for all three Joon brothers to stay with them until the crisis was over. If Hyun-su were to try to get to the paper mill, he would have to come up the road through the village. Neither nor his men would be missed by any villager. Although it did not seem likely he would try the hills, still, Suk-kwon stationed one of the brothers to work around the creek. With so many hands to work the vegetable patch and repairs, both he and Yunbok literally had almost nothing to do but wait.

"With a debt that large, father and son must be running and digging around for scraps to offer to the creditors. Would that their attention is fixed on this and nothing else," said Yunbok. A busy tiger was good news, he had no complaint. Putting down the mat he was weaving to hold out a wooden toy animal for P'ado who was sitting beside him, gumming a small sticky wad of rag in his mouth. It seemed to soothe his irritation with his teething though Yunbok had to make sure he did not swallow the rag. Suk-kwon's initial suggestion to putting the boy up with one of the villagers temporarily had upset Jeong-hyang so he gave up the idea..

"It will not last long," said Suk-kwon as he weaved skillfully.

"Any word from old master Han on his investigation?"

"Nothing. The father is a cunning one. We'll just have to be patient."

"I can't imagine us waiting like this for weeks on end," sighed Yunbok.

"We can just watch this pair of ducks at their courtship," Suk-kwon said grinning when Chang-sun appeared on the path from the village, a tied package in his hand. He went up to Ae-young, ostensibly to give it to her but in reality taking the opportunity to chat. Yunbok snickered quietly as Ae-young bloomed red at the attention.

As the days passed, Young-joon's anxiety increased when his father could only gave negative answers to his daily queries on the status of his investigation. After the umpteenth inquiry, he was finally told his persistence would reap better rewards in other applications of his time. Understanding that he was only upsetting his father, he set Sang-ook to gather daily information about Hyun-su's activities. Every detail, no matter how small it was, was important. The warehouse supervisor took the instruction to heart and soon, Young-joon was receiving reports on the man's comings and goings.

Contrary to his expectations, the son was not busy finding ways to get the money to pay his creditors. Rather, Hyun-su had been visiting the gibang every night and creating a furor among the gisaeng by demanding services for himself and the group of Chinese thugs, irregardless whether they were already entertaining customers or not. Such impertinence and unreasonable demands roused the ire of the gisaeng that many were not inclined to accept. When Hyun-su resorted to threats, a few had stood their ground.

Gibu and customers alike took umbrage at the treatment and bullying meted out. Numerous fights had broken out. Almost every night with a savagery never seen before. With the ban on the production and sale of liquor, the brawls had been vigorous on either side, often ending with many nursing black eyes, broken noses and limbs. Word was the hojang had summoned father and son to an inquiry but no one knew what went on between them except that the son was not charged. Why? No one knew. None dared to suggest there was an exchange of bribes for the hojang was known for his integrity. It was a mystery that filled the gossips of the day.

Gibang aside, Hysu-su's daylight activities was even more baffling. Often, he was seen around the refugee camps. Not to dispense aid or food or anything. No, he was spending a lot of time talking to quite a number of the refugees. Why? What was he up to? At other times, he was skulking all over the town, as if looking for something. That did not bode well. The son did not seem to care his father was putting himself out on his behalf.

Elder master Meen was everywhere, visiting various associates. To borrow money, was the rumor going about. He was also selling off parcels of his property and knowing of his need, other merchants had taken advantage and offered as a low price as they dared. That the need was great was apparent when the properties were let go without too much hard negotiations often associated with master Meen's business practices. How long could this go on? It was only a matter of time before he would be driven into a corner. Surely Hyun-su could see he was heading nowhere? What was the point of rousing so much trouble for his family and everyone else? Had he no self-respect? Young-joon could not understand this behaviour. He looked up when Sang-ook hurried in. Was there more news?

"There's a young woman out by the gates asking for you," the warehouse supervisor whispered, after a quick look around. What was he looking out for?

"Did she say who she is?" asked Young-joon. Why was Sang-ook acting so furtively?

"She said she's the maid of .. er the young lady you ran into.," Sang-ook found himself talking to air when Young-joon jumped up and went out the door. He threaded his way through the crowd of workers impatiently and saw Chun-he standing by the gates. The look of relief on her face when she saw him was puzzling.

"Master Han, we need your help," she said quickly when he reached her.

"What has happened?"

"My mistress needs shelter, can you escort her to a safe place? It's...," she said fearfully, looking around.

"Where is she now?" Young-joon interrupted, suspicion flaring in his mind.

"She's at home at the moment but she needs to get away, soon!"

"Show me. Wait," he stopped her and beckoned to the supervisor who had followed him. "Send someone to my father and...," he whispered into Sang-ook's ear.

"Yes sir. Immediately."

Satisfied that his father would be prepared, Young-joon followed Chun-he out into the street. As they moved along through the crowd, he kept an eye out for anyone wearing foreign clothing, afraid that they would be spotted by one of Hyun-su's men. She led him to one of the smaller housing compounds down south and turned into the smaller paths.

"Wait. Is there a back gate?" Young-joon stopped Chun-he as she began to head towards the nearest house.

"Yes, at the back garden, follow this wall," she pointed.

"Look, I will wait for your mistress by the back gate. Don't come out unless you hear me whistling," he whistled a tune. "Make sure both of you have cloaks."

"All right. Where will you bring her?"

"My house, for now."

Chun-he hesitated before nodding. It had been difficult for her mistress, trying to decide where and whom to turn to after the events of the night. None of their relatives was able to lift a finger, none had the clout to go against the Meens despite rumors of the trouble that family was in. In the end, Su-dae felt there was only one choice and had gone to her father who had initially demurred against asking total strangers for aid. But with the threat hanging over their heads, he had finally agreed after listening to her story of her encounter with Young-joon. The reputation of the Han family was remarkably subdued but respected in Uiryeong, her father knew at least they would be able to prevail against any tricks from Hyun-su. And so, he had given his permission. Chun-he could not help but agree. Between Young-joon and Hyun-su, she felt the younger Han was more trustworthy. At least, she had not heard any bad things about him. Despite his impertinence that day, he had tried to warn her mistress against her engagement which she felt her master should have the sense to take into account himself when the betrothal was proposed, given the Meen's bad reputation.

Looking up and down the deserted path, she made for the front gates. Young-joon waited until she had passed through the gates before following the wall round to the back. He meandered along casually, as if he was just out for a walk. If anyone was watching the house, they would think he was just passing by. As he turned the corner, he was not surprised to see one of Hyun-su's men leaning against the wall of the back garden. He glanced around casually. There seemed to be only one.

As he came abreast of the man, he darted forward and punched him. Taken by surprise, the back of the man's head struck the wall and he fell to the ground, unconscious. Hurriedly, Young-joon checked him and was relieved that he was still breathing. Hurrying to the gate, he whistled. When there was no response, he wondered what had happened. Did they not hear him? Or was it they were packing? He continued his whistling, hoping the man would not wake up anytime soon. At last, there were sounds from the gate. He turned anxiously to see the two girls, holding packs in their hands.

"Master Han," said Su-dae gratefully.

"Come. Cover your heads and follow me," he said, waving to them urgently. "This way."

He led them away from the unconscious man and further along the path. Mentally, he thought of all the routes he could take. It was not possible to keep to the smaller paths, they would have to use the main streets now and then but he hoped to limit their exposure. Whenever there were crowds, he slowed down to make sure they could keep up even as he watched for those foreign men. Luck was with them for they reached the gates of the Han residence with no incident. Young-joon was glad to see his father and Kyoung-mi waiting for them at the porch.

"This is my father. And this is my cousin, Kyoung-mi," Young-joon said to Su-dae who bowed in greeting.

"Old master Han, I'm sorry to...," she began apologetically.

"No apologies are needed," old master Han interrupted, waving his hand towards the daecheong. "Please, come in. I need to hear what you have to say. It is important. Time is of essence." He waited till they were all seated daecheong. A maid hurried with a soban of refeshments and set it out. "What has happened that forces you to seek help from us?" he said after the maid had withdrew.

"The other night, my...," Su-dae began and then shook herself. "No, he is not what I want," she muttered to herself. "I'm sorry. I mean to say, young master Meen came the other night to see my father. He demanded that I be handed over to him because since the marriage rites are going to be held soon, I belonged to him by rights and that I should be staying at his house. My father refused because the ceremony have not been performed. That angered young master Meen who told his men he brought with him to seek me out. My father tried to intervene and was threatened. It was fortunate that he had guests over that night for dinner, heard the commotion and interfered. Young master Meen left but said he will be back to get me. My father told me he will try to get me away so I suggested seeking help from you, sir."

"He is indeed pushing the limits of his boundary," old master Han murmured.

"Aboji, I don't understand this at all. It's as if he has no control. Surely he cannot think he can get away with such violent criminal actions?" Tried he as might, Young-joon could not see what Hyun-su could possibly gain from trying to force a union that was already promised.

"I wonder," old master Han frowned, deep in thought, as the others waited respectfully. "The fort is hemmed in, there is no road he can take. Too much in debt. A pit he can climb out of only if he toiled to repay it sincerely. As with all craven creatures, he will turn on his own family."

Turned on his own family? Young-joon exchanged a look of apprehension with Kyoung-mi. "Aboji, you are not suggesting...," he found he could not voice what he was thinking.

"He knows he cannot pay it. What is one more crime, one more evil deed. The moment his father cannot satisfy his creditors is the moment he will truly unleash his malevolence. For now, he is held back by faint hope. He will not stay in this country, once he is finished with his family. He will go with his creditors, back to China."

The finality of the statement wrought a myriad of reactions from the rest. Kyoung-mi shook her head sadly at the thought of innocent lives to be ruined. Young-joon felt satisfaction that Hysun-su would furrow himself into the ground and revulsion that he could possibly do what his father suggested. Su-dae felt sick that a man would sink so low as to sacrifice his own family to save himself and relief that she had escaped his grasp.

"Aboji," said Young-joon, "even if his father is not honorable, surely we cannot stand by to see him... do whatever it is to his mother, his sister?"

"I will summon master Meen tomorrow," old master Han sighed before he looked at Su-dae. "Your family is at risk. I will arrange for them to stay at a safe place temporarily. For now, you can stay here until you can join them."

"Sir, words cannot express my gratitude for going through all this trouble on behalf of this humble servant," Su-dae bowed deeply, feeling a heavy weight lifting away from her.

"Please, I'll show you to your quarters we have prepared," Kyoung-mi rose to her feet, gesturing to Su-dae to follow her. With great relief, Su-dae bowed to the men and stepped after her with Chun-he.

Young-joon waited until the women had disappeared before turning to his father. "Aboji, he may show up once he learned she is here."

"I have summoned more men to be here until the girl is away with her family," said old master Han. "He cannot and must not have his way." He sighed and got up to go to his private study room.

Sitting alone in the daecheong, Young-joon absently drank his tea, pondering on Hyun-su's conduct. What could he be planning? Why was he going about the town? A thought struck him and he sat up. How could he have forgotten that important point? Hurriedly, he called for a servant and sent him to the gibang to request the services of the gisaeng, Mi-hi, whom he patronised sometimes. The servant went on his way, the surpise on his face clear to Young-joon. The young master asking a gisaeng to come to the Han residence? What was the world coming to?

Afraid his father would come to the wrong impression, Young-joon went to inform him of his intentions and returned to the daecheong. As he sat there waiting, men began to arrive in response to old master Han's summons. The captain of the group went to to see old master Han and came out presently to dispatch the men to their various posts. As Young-joon looked on, one of them sat down at the far side of the daecheong and began to polish some silverware a maid brought to him. Another went to the other end, near the garden and began to sweep. He couldn't imagine how long they would keep to the tasks.

A call at the gates. Young-joon got up when he saw the woman following the servant he had sent.

"This is a surprise, master Han," said Mi-hi when she had seated herself at the daecheong. She looked around appreciatively at the surroundings. "Is there something you require?" she asked solemnly for she knew he had something else in mind than gisaeng services.

"I need information," said Young-joon said.

"I suspect as much. I have one request however," she said as he looked at her in surprise. Was that a pleading note in her voice? "I'd like to stay here until the morning."

In a flash, he understood. "Meen Hyun-su?" he said.

"Meen Hyun-su," she nodded in agreement. "If you allowed me to stay, at least for tonight, I will escape the chaos."

"I understand. Stay as long as you like," he nodded gravely when she stared at him. "I mean it," he said earnestly. "Stay as long as you like. Until at least, the problem is resolved."

Her bright smile of gratitude and relief lit up the daecheong before it died away. "Can it be resolved?" she said despairingly. "It doesn't seem possible. Despite all he has done, he is not confined. We have tolerate his insufferable insolence and demands night after night."

"Is he paying at all?"

"The friends he has with him paid for everything," venom and bleakness in her voice. Young-joon frowned. Paid for everything? To get him further into debt? But why get him further into their hooks when he could not even escape, what were those men after? How foolish could Hyun-su be? he could hardly believe the fellow had any rationality left.

"I need to know if he has made any inquiries about Jeong-hyang."

"Jeong-hyang?" she frowned. "Ah, the gayageum player who left to get married. Yes, he did." Young-joon's heart sank at that.

"What did he ask?"

"Where did she go, for one. Whom did she marry. Ae-young did not tell us much so we said we do not know. He was furious we could not give him the answers he wanted. But..."

"But what?"

"He sounds obssessed whenever he talks about her and has even threatened Iseul with a bared knife," she waved her hand at him to calm down when he looked alarm. "Not in front of so many witnesses could he dare to harm her but she puts herself in danger by defying him so publicly..," she halted when he gestured to her to wait and looked on as he called for a servant and sent him back to the gibang with a message for Iseul. "I don't think she will want to stay here," she said, discerning his intention.

"Nevertheless, I must persuade her," he said worriedly. Jeong-hyang would be most upset if harm befall her best and closest friend because of her. "Did he threaten anyone else?"

"Last night, Eun-ae said she had to tell him she saw Jeong-hyang and Ae-young in town recently. She was in fear for her life so..."

"I see," said Young-joon. It could not be helped. Now that Hyun-su knew Jeong-hyang was still around Uiryeong, what would he do to locate her? "Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"There is," she paused, "I'm not sure how to put this? I don't much like the way he watched us. It is not the typical gaze of lasciviousness, more of assessing in value?" disquiet flitted over her face. "Or goods. I do not know what he intends but I am very much afraid for our safety."

"He will not try anything in the open." What was Hyun-su planning? Was it possible to counter whatever he had in mind? Young-joon was not sure but he was not about to stand about and watched it happened. "Is it possible for the rest to try not to leave the gibang during this period?"

Face pale, Mi-hi became more apprehensive. "Everyone knows of the chaos at the gibang every night, there is little reason for us to not want to leave the troubles behind."

Little reason to refuse reservations for entertainment elsewhere. If only it was possible to provide a secure escort for the gisaeng. Young-joon did not think it was possible. "Is there anything else you can think of?" When Mi-hi shook her head, he summoned a maid to pass a message to Kyoung-mi. He hoped she would understand what he was doing. Belong long, the maid returned to show Mi-hi to the guest quarters. Giving Young-joon a grateful bow for his generosity, Mi-hi followed the maid to the anbang.

While waiting a reply from Iseul, Young-joon paced about the daecheong, trying to figure out a way to ensure the safety of those at the gibang. It did not occur to him that it was unusual for anyone to spare much thought for a group of people considered low in standing. But then, he was not thinking of them as low class. To him, they were women who deserved the consideration he would extend to anyone else.

What was taking Iseul so long? He glanced at the gates. If they stayed within the premises of the gibang, there was little chance Hyun-su could try to kidnap any of the gisaeng. What would he do with the women if he did manage to take a few of them? Slavery? Violence? He winced at the thought and looked once more to the gates. Definitely taking too long, he decided. He went to the porch and put on his shoes. As he approached the gates, he heard the servant calling and the rap of the knocker.

"Young master," the servant said in surprise when he saw Young-joon who waved to him to open the gates.

"Come, come," Young-joon beckoned to Iseul urgently when he saw her and led her away to the garden, leaving the servant to wonder at his agitation.

"What do you have in mind, master Han? she said once he had explained the reason for summoning her.

"Given the number of men following him around, how safe is it at the gibang?"

"Or outside? Not all of us have quarters at the gibang, others have homes elsewhere. Wherever it is, I'm afraid it depends on the action he will take," she smiled at Young-joon's surprise at her composure. "We are afraid, who will not be? But none of us will want to live like moles, scurrying about in darkness. If violence comes to pass, we will not go quietly."

"Will there be any objection if I send a few men?"

"It will be much appreciated and provide much comfort to my sisters. There is one other thing you should know," she paused by the lotus pond. "I've spoken to a few of the young women at the refugee camps. They said Hyun-su has been offering them prospects of a better life up north."

"In China? What is he offering?"

"Husbands," she said dubiously as he exclaimed in astonishment. "The men who came with him. He told the women they were seeking wives."

"That's preposterous," ridiculed Young-joon. "Seeking wives all the way down south in Choson? Surely he can come up with a better story?!"

"It's not the story or the men that's so attractive. It's the bridal gift he's offering. Five hundred nyang each."

"Five hundred..," spluttered Young-joon in disbelief. Where would Hyun-su come up with that kind of money? "None of them have accepted, did they?" he said worriedly, for the sum was large and hugely attractive. How could the poor resist such an offer? "No," he protested when she merely looked at him. "They believed him?!"

"Not yet but they are considering it. I've advised them against it, subtly of course since I don't want him to come after me."

"I'll have to tell aboji about this," he muttered. "Mi-hi is going to stay here until the crisis is over. She will not mind having a companion."

"I'm afraid I cannot. My sisters look to me for guidance, I cannot leave them in the lurch," she said gently but firmly.

"Then, please accept an invitation to dinner? Um, it has been a long time since we got together," he fibbed gallantly as she chuckled.

"It is gracious of you, master Han. It has indeed been a long time since I last danced for you," they grinned at each other and strolled about the garden, chatting good humoredly. After leaving Iseul at the anbang, Young-joon made his way to the main study room.

"The magistrate will be informed of this development," old master Han said when Young-joon had related what he had learnt. "More attention will be paid to his visits to the camp but we will have to wait for his next action. I'll send a few men over to the gibang. Make the arrangements with Iseul. And another thing, from today onwards, it is best you stay away from Mr Seo and the seodang. I'm also detailing two of the men to follow you when you go to the warehouse."

"I understand, aboji, still, brother Seo has to be informed," Young-joon said soberly.

"I will do it, do not worry."

That was easier said than done. After sending Iseul off with three men as her escorts that night, the problem gnawed at Young-joon such that he could not sleep. He could not help fretting and wishing Hyun-su would do something blatently rash and break the law so he could be locked up. The next morning, desiring to know the outcome of the meeting between his father and master Meen, he decided to go to the warehouse in the afternoon. He tried to read in his room but the words were a haze before his eyes. Throwing the book aside and feeling that the room was stifling him, he went to the garden where he paced restlessly around, blind to the blooming flowers around him.

"Master Han?" He stopped short in surprise for he had not heard footsteps and turned to see Su-dae and Chun-he.

"Ah, how are you this morning?" he said distractedly and stiffened when he heard someone calling at the front gates. He made his way over to where he could see the visitor and saw a servant conducting master Meen to the house. The man had a pinched look about him, vastly different since he saw him last.

"Is something wrong?" Su-dae asked anxiously, seeing the tension in him.

"No, no," he waved his hand in denial and then went back to his pacing. How would master Meen react?

"Something is wrong, isn't it?" Su-dae persisted.

"No, no, nothing to do with you," he said when he saw her anxiety.

"I'm glad to hear that but something is worrying you. Would you like to share it?"

"It's...it's my friend," grateful for a ear willing to listen, he told her about Yunbok and Jeong-hyang. "It's also due to him that I.. er..came to know about you."

"How did he know me? I never met him before," Su-dae said in astonishment.

"Well, ah, he saw you when he came with me to master Meen's house with the dinner invitation. And that's when er..," he shuffled his feet sheepishly.

"You peeped over the wall. I presumed he helped you with that too," she laughed before sobering. "We can only hope for the best, master Han. Your friend has taken precautions, you said, let us pray he and his family will come to no harm."

"Yes, I hope so," Young-joon said fervently and looked up when he heard the gates opening and closing. Master Meen must have left. "Excuse me," he said and rushed back to the house, straight to his father's study room. "Aboji, how was it?" he burst into the room without announcing himself. His father did not seem to mind and only shook his head in answer to the question. "Surely not?" Young-joon protested. Nothing? He sat down heavily, disappointed that there was no positive development.

"I spoke as candidly as I could. I raised the worst possible outcome for him and he was anguished. His only possible chance of protecting his family now, is to come clean about his own activities, reveal the truth on the death of the student at the hyanggyo so his son can be arrested."

"He said no."

"Indeed. He knew he had raised his son badly but still, he is his own flesh and blood. If there is hope, he will try to avert disaster."

"Ahh! He is blind!" Young-joon thumped his fist on the floor.

"Mayhaps," sighed old master Han. "His reluctance is forgivable. For now, we can only wait and see if he will make the painful decision to turn in his own son."

"The law still can not touch him, aboji?"

"He is a very wily fox," old master Han shook his head. "But even a fox can be undone by his own kin. You have better take yourself off to the warehouse instead of hanging around waiting for news. Sang-ook may be a good man but still, there are some decisions he cannot make."

"Um, yes aboji," Young-joon nodded apologetically at that mild censure and left for the warehouse, trailed by his bodguards.

As he walked through the streets, Young-joon looked at the people around him. How was it that the day could be so bright? It was the most curious sensation, he felt that the whole world would know of the debauchery of Hyun-su and yet here were people going about with their own concerns. Unaware of the malignant personality that walked amongst them. So lost in thought was he that he did not notice someone calling him until his way was blocked. The two men with him tensed. Unexpectedly, he found himself looking at Hyun-su who most assuredly, was less friendly since they last met at the warehouse. The man also looked worse. His eyes were bloodshot, his breath stank of wine and he reeked, as if he had not bathed for days though he was still flaunting that dopo.

"Are you deaf?! I said, where have you hidden my wife?" he snarled, looking as if he rather stomped Young-joon into the ground.

"Your wife?" repeated Young-joon blankly.

"My _WIFE_!" The roar drew the eyes of everyone around them, attracting a curious crowd. "How dare you kidnap her." Murmurs of disbelief. Young-joon felt numerous eyes on him and ignored them. Word began to spread.

"Excuse me, as I understand it. You did not go through the marriage rites with her, how could she be your wife?" Young-joon affected boredom, snapping open his jwilbuchae to fan himself languidly. It was provocative but then, he wanted to make this fellow as furious as possible.

"The moment she's betrothed to me, she is my wife. Who cares about some stupid ceremony?" Disapproval ran through the crowd when they heard this. How could this young man say such a thing? Where were his manners? His respect for customs? "So hand her over!"

"I'm sorry, she is not mine to hand over. You will have to ask her father."

"That stubborn old fool can't be found! I should have taken her the other night! You have a hand in it, don't you?" Hyun-su bit off each word as if he wanted to physically sink his teeth into the culprit who offended him. "And there's another thing," he pointed an accusatory finger at Young-joon. The crowd muttered at this. How offensive! "You know where is Jeong-hyang. You were one of her few guests. I was told you escorted her maid with all their posessions the day she left to marry someone. Where is she?!"

"Tasteless guk is only hot," Young-joon said calmly, ignoring the specks of spittle that flew on his face when Hyun-su pushed nearer to him, aware that the other man was near the edge from that statement.

"Whom did she marry?! Who is he?! No one takes what's mine! Su-dae, Jeong-hyang, whoever I say is mine will be mine. How dare you interfere?!" The madness blazing out of Hyun-su's eyes was evidence enough that he could not be reasoned with. Young-joon would not even bother to try even if the man was in a calm mood.

With a roar of fury at Young-joon's silence, Hyun-su seized hold of his overcoat and threw a punch that Young-joon could not evade. Furious, he struck back with his jwilbuchae even as the crowd retreated hastily. The men he had with him leapt to his defense as Hyun-su's men tried to pile their own attacks on him. Something sharp raked across his brow and Young-joon did not know who was it that inflicted the injury or with what. It was too chaotic. All he was concerned about was landing a blow on Hyun-su. He felt a burst of satisfaction when Hyun-su reeled back from a uppercut. Before he could follow up with another strke, he was knocked to the ground and feet kicked out at him.

"The constables are coming, get away, now!" someone shouted and hands reached out to pull Hyun-su away even as he tried to stay on his feet, burning with desire to pummel Young-joon to a pulp. More hands reached out and Hyun-su was finally dragged away, shouting angrily. A hand was clamped over his mouth to still the noise and he disappeared in the midst of the crowd.

"Sir, are you all right?" one of the escorts helped Young-joon to his feet. "You have better return home, sir. You're bleeding."

Young-joon nodded, pulling out a handkerchief to try to staunch the blood. The escort picked up his jwilbuchae from the ground; broken and torn. His face blackened. Yunbok had given him that jwilbuchae on Dano, painted with a beautiful scenery. Morosely, he looked at the broken jwilbuchae and tucked it into his coat, vowing that Hyun-su would pay for the outrage.

The servant at the gates raised the alarm when he saw him, to Young-joon's annoyance when he wanted to keep it quiet. The noise brought old master Han and a bevy of women to the daecheong. One look at them and he wanted to retreat to his study room but Kyoung-mi sternly told him to stay as she hurried off to get the water and medicine. She returned as he related what had happened to his father and cleaned the cut on his brow. A bruise was beginning to form near his eye.

"He's mad, aboji. I can see it in his eyes," he finished glumly.

"He is getting out of hand," old master Han said, angry that his son was atatcked. If he were any other with the resources at his command, Hyun-su would never see another day but he was no such tyrant. "You are staying at home until the matter is resolved."

"Aboji, I'm really worried for brother Seo." Kyoung-mi's hands faltered at that statement but neither men noticed it. At this moment, a servant ran up.

"Master, the constable officer request to see you and young master."

"Very well, show him in."

Quickly, Kyoung-mi bound up the cut on Young-joon's brow, retreating to the anbang with Su-dae and Mi-hi before the constable officer made his entrance to discuss the incident with father and son.


	9. Chapter 9

**Haji1782**

The candle light was steady and did not waver in the darkness. She held up the cloth nearer to the light, checking the stitches. The soft murmur nearby hardly intruded into her concentration. A focus which she hung on to grimly. Patiently, Yunbok repeated the name of each carved wooden animal to P'ado who fingered and examined every one as it was handed to him. The needle gleamed as it slipped in and out of the cloth. A few stitches down, she realised they were uneven.

"I can't take this anymore!" Yunbok looked up at that fretful exclamation. Jeong-hyang sat with the needlework in her lap, staring at him with pent up frustration.

"I know, it's getting to me too," he sighed.

"Are we to stay beseige like this? How can we live like this," she cooled down immediately when P'ado whimpered at the angry tone.

"Omoni's not angry with you, here," Yunbok hurriedly distracted him with another wooden animal. "Patience, Hyangya. I don't think the father can hang on any longer. It's been almost two weeks, surely he will not be able to scrape up any more money."

"I don't want to stay in," she said, almost petulantly. "I'm going for the bulrushes gathering."

"Hyangya," he began to chide her. Gallivanting around was a bad idea. He could cut the bulrushes they needed himself. "All right, all right," he sighed at the glare she gave him and jumped when something hard hit him in the side.

"Mal!" P'ado crowed, waving the wooden horse about and hitting Yunbok again.

"Good boy, you remember that! Let's see if you know this one," he gathered the boy into his lap and ran over the names of the animals again.

Heaving a sigh, she watched them for a while before picking up the needlework again. The wait had been grating and difficult. She had found herself a little short of temper these couple of days and it was difficult not to snap at the slightest annoyance. It didn't help everyone was on edge as she was. Time and time again, from the moment the sun rose and till it set, she had scrutinized the surroundings. Looking for signs of discovery until her eyes ached. Every night was a long tiring vigilance in the dark.

Who could live each day on the edge of a knife, with nerves stretched thin, always fearful of what may come? Watching and waiting for threats that could manifest at any time, in any direction? It was almost akin to the time she and Yunbok had lived in fear of discovery by Kim Jo-nyeon. Then, their adversary was near and visible. It was a different story now with Hyun-su. Unseen and without restraint. Driven by his own fears and desires. She had never felt so oppressed as she did now.

Such a person could do anything. This petrifying menace that hovered over her made her feel hounded. One would go mad surely. She would rather be out, on the move than stay like a petrified rabbit in the burrow. Her fingers stopped as a sudden revelation struck her. Out. Moving. Her gaze shifted to Yunbok. Was this how he had felt those years ago? His constant need to keep moving? It became crystal clear to her why he had kept moving, never stopping. How had he stayed sane? Quickly, she wiped a tear away before he noticed and continued with her needlework. Surprisingly, the ones not adversely affected by the tense atmosphere were Ae-young and Chang-sun. Too busy eyeing each other, they had no mind for anything else. Courtship of the ducks, she chuckled.

"What are you laughing about?" he asked, not looking up from his play with P'ado. He was pleased to hear her lightened mood.

"I was thinking of master Park's remark about ducks," she laughed softly as she recalled the courtship that went on everyday.

"Yes, they are a remarkable pair, aren't they? Chang-sun's always bringing her little morsels, what a catch! You can see him posturing and prancing about, preening, fluffing out his feathers, gathering his courage before waddling manfully to her and she's always making these delightful gestures, flutter, flutter...ooo you shouldn't have. Quack, quack."

"Stop it," her giggles became full blown laughter as his droll commentary conjured the most amusing imagery before her eyes. P'ado looked at her curiously and began to giggle too.

"Do you think they will snare the wild goose this year?" Yunbok grinned.

"Who can say? But, we should prepare for Ae-young if they come to an understanding."

"It's fine with me. Right you are, little fellow, time for bed," Yunbok grinned, tossing the boy gently in the air as he chortled gleefully.

"How can he sleep when you agitate him like that?" she said reprovingly.

"Put the needlework away, it's getting late. And he is sleepy," he pointed to the yawning P'ado before getting up to lay him in his bedding.

"Mal! ..akk..," the boy muttered, thumb in mouth, falling asleep easily as Yunbok patted him.

"Hyangya, enough," he said as he turned to her to see her stitching away and took away the needlwork to store it in the bamboo basket. She let it go with a sigh. It was unlikely she would be abe to sleep but turned in as he wanted.

"I'm worried about Iseul, do you think she is all right?" she said as they lay in the dark. "Will we hear anything tomorrow?"

"Hyangya, go to sleep," he sighed, turning to his right to reach out for her hand. "If there is any trouble, Iseul can seek help from old master Han. Stop brooding over it."

"I'm trying," she said, plucking at the quilt. "I feel really bad that all this trouble is because of me."

"Stop thinking of it that way. You are in no way to blame. You can't control what he thinks or do," he sighed, wishing they could just leave Uiryeong for a while. Startled by that thought, he frowned. Why did they not think of temporarily going away until Hyun-su had left or was arrested? After all, what was keeping them there? "I really wonder what kind of upbringing he had," he said as he turned the idea over in his head.

"As the son of a merchant, what can you expect?"

"Young-joon has the same background and yet he turned out so well."

"Would he have been different had his mother lived to pamper him?"

"It's hard to say. Not everything can be laid at the mother's feet."

"Did your foster-mother pamper your brother?"

"Yes she did but aboji was too firm with him for him to behave like a spoilt child. He could be stubborn sometimes but not as headstrong as me. But when he made up his mind to do something, sometimes, even I couldn't desuade him from it," he turned on his back and looked at the ceiling. "It's unfortunate we have a roof over us or we could look at the stars otherwise," he said, changing the subject. "When I couldn't sleep, I'll look at the stars. It's always an amazing, awesome sight. The sky so dark and so far away. Like a great land that never never ends when you look at it. Look hard enough and you will feel as if you could drown in the sea of stars. Shining, always shining. Some of them so small you have to squint, and some so much brighter than the others. And that one really bright star that always stays in its place...," he lifted his head, peering in the dark, listening carefully. Aslepp, at last. He smiled when he heard her even breathing and dropped off to sleep himself, thinking of the stars.

After breakfast the next morning, they set off for the northern hills with several other villagers to cut bulrushes along the stream that branched off from the Nakdong River. They kept in sight of one another as they worked, stopping now and then to rest aching backs, chatting about the weather and everything else. Rumored paganism was the most talked subject, infused with tales someone had overheard on a trip to Uiryeong recently. The stories sounded too outlandish to be believed but provided so much diversion that the discussion became more and more outrageous.

Gradually, the topic turned to the prospect of good harvest for the year. Reconstruction of several of the badly damaged farmlands in the earthquake struck provinces had been completed and the affected farmers were hurrying to sow the crops. Were there time enough to gather a meagre harvest? They must have worked day and night for repairs to be completed so soon, some opinioned. The prospect of starvation was motivation enough, was the genernal consensus.

Belong long, the sun was almost at the zenith. To break the monotony, the women broke into song, followed by the men when they were done. The children scampering about joined in as they took turns to mind the younger children. To Jeong-hyang, it was a momentous experience which she would remember forever. A grinning Yunbok, winking at her in humour as he joined the men in their song and a joyous P'ado trying to catch the youngsters playing with him.

It was early afternoon when they got back to the paper mill, to see Suk-kwon beckoning to them from the porch of his house. They waved to the departing villagers before hurrying to Suk-kwon for he seemed to have something to tell them.

"I have good and bad news," he said, gesturing to them to sit after they had set down the baskets of bulrushes in the courtyard. "Old master Meen has given himself up to the authorities. He has totally ruined himself trying to pay off the son's debts."

Yunbok exchanged a look of cautious relief with Jeong-hyang. "What's the bad news?"

"He came forward because he has no choice. His daughter is missing."

"Missing?" Yunbok was puzzled before realization struck. "Are you suggesting..," he was incredulous.

"No doubt, the son has a hand in it," Suk-kwon said grimly. "Didn't old master Han said he got in the bad books of a Chinese slavery cartel?"

"You are saying...he...," Jeong-hyang shuddered, a sick look on her face. Ae-young's eyes went round with horror.

"That is what we suspect. Once he realized what his son might have done, old master Meen went straight to the magistrate and turned in the evidence of the son's involvement in the death of the student. An order for his arrest has been issued. However, the whereabouts of the son is unknown. Someone had tipped him off."

"Would he try to escape, leave Choson?" Yunbok suggested, though not very hopefully for he remembered the men that came with Hyun-su.

"Return to China with his creditors?" Suk-kwon shook his head. "If he had come with just four or five of them, that is a possibility. However, the men that came with him numbered fifteen. The cash his father had converted from the sale of properties would only take up to three to four men to carry."

"So they have some other plan."

"Of that, we can be certain of it," nodded Suk-kwon. "To hold a feast, you need as many skilled cooks."

"They sent these many men because they knew they will not receive the entire payment. Is it possible they intend...," Yunbok's eyes widened. "It's preposterous. Did they think they can get away with it with so many eyes on them?" Could Hyun-su be so bold?

Suk-kwon shook his head. "In that, fortunte has played them a bad hand. Hyun-su is their mistake. A tiger cannot hunt if his victim knows where he's coming from the sounds of his footsteps. Their failure to control his impetuous abuses has effectively curtailed whatever they had intended, leaving them their original goal."

"Their payment," Yunbok nodded. "Now that they have taken all they can, that leaves Hyun-su. Will he leave?" Would the gods hear his prayer and set that fellow on his way, far away from Uiryeong.

"He has to leave with them but I do not think he will go empty-handed," Suk-kwon gave Jeong-hyang a significant look. Realising what he meant, she turned pale. "He has already made the first strike and if he could, the second as fast as he can."

Standing up, Yunbok glanced at the courtyard, half expecting men to come running in. "How far would he have scouted?"

"We do not wait, we have to leave for a more secured place," Suk-kwon picked up his staff and stood up.

It reminded Yunbok of the revelation he had last night. "We should have left weeks ago. Removed ourselves from the problem," mentally, he castigated himself for not having thought of it sooner.

Dropping a hand to Yunbok's shoulder in mild rebuke, Suk-kwon said, "You did not because you have stopped running. There is no wrong in facing the menace head on."

They looked towards the courtyard when sounds of running footsteps could be heard. The women stood up to see who it was, Ae-young clutching P'ado to her in fear. To their relief, a young boy turned in at the gates. It was Il Sung, haraboji Yoo's grandson.

"Sonbaenim, I meant to tell you just now," he panted when he reached them.

though he wanted the boy to spill out what he had to say at once, Yunbok said soothingly, "Slowly, take your time." The boy nodded, taking several deep breaths to regain composure.

"I forgot to tell you just now," he continued, "but we saw a few strangers looking down at us from the ridge while we were at the stream. They just stood there for a while before they disappeared."

A chill seemed to pervade Yunbok's limbs when he heard this. "Were you able to see how they were dressed?"

"They were dressed differently, I think," Il Sung said doubtfully. "They have long hair wound around their heads." The boy could only be referring to the queue worn by Chinese men. They were at the village already?

"That is most observant, Il Sung. Please go back and ask whoever is in the village to go to the mojeong," said Suk-kwon.

"Yes, master Park," Il Sung nodded and ran off.

"You can't stay here any more, neither can P'ado," Yunbok said bleakly to Jeong-hyang. "You have to leave, today. In fact, Ae-young has to go too."

"We'll go to Han residence, it's more secured there," Suk-kwon nodded in agreement.

"We must go as soon as possible," Yunbok offered his hand to Jeong-hyang. "Let's pack some necessities quickly," he led her off to their house.

"I'll get the Joon brothers to go with us," Suk-kwon called after them as he got up and went into his house. After thinking for a while, he removed the bow and arrows from the wall in his room, slung a sword over his back before going out to gather the brothers. Before long, Yunbok returned with Jeong-hyang, a pack in hand and a frightened Ae-young, carrying P'ado on her back.

"Should I bring mine along?" Yunbok eyed the bow in Suk-kwon's hands.

"The less burdened you are, the better. We'll go down to the village and warned the rest. Come."

They moved off at a steady pace with the Joon brothers moving to shield their back. With most of the men working in the fields, those who gathered at the mojeong were women and children along with the few youngsters who were tending to various chores. Not knowing if Hyun-su was brazen enough to attack a village, Suk-kwon advised the women to run to the men at the fields the moment they see strangers. With the villagers alerted, they headed towards the path leading to the main road.

Unable to keep in her feelings, Jeong-hyang couldn't help but burst out. "This is just plain lunacy."

Suk-kwon understood how she felt. "Thus does a cornered tiger turn and turn about, dashing and lashing out indiscriminately in its terror and desperation."

"Why did he not run earlier?" asked Chang-uk. "Why stay and do their bidding?"

"If he could run, he would have done so but his watchdogs never left him alone. He's followed, wherever he goes, even when he goes to the outhouse. He is trammeled and he knows this. A desperate man will build a six-gan daecheong on the back of a flea."

"The chaos at the gibang, perhaps it was to get himself arrested?" suggested Yunbok. If Hyun-su had thought that far, being locked away would give him some breathing room from the Chinese thugs.

"I believe that was his intention. However, with the rest of his family under threat, his father had to make sure it didn't happen," said Suk-kwon. "Do you know what happens to those who incur debts with slave cartels?" He glanced around and saw their keen interest. "Slave cartels have a way of ensuring obedience; torture. It's never the same for every victim but the methods they employed can drive one insane. To not suffer such a torment, the victim always caves in and does what the cartel want."

Jeong-hyang turned absolutely white at that and exchanged a look of horror with Yunbok. He wondered how Suk-kwon even knew so much. Had the older man had encounters before with such groups? It didn't bear thinkng of. Thoroughly frightened, Ae-young peered at the trees and grasses that lined both sides of the paths. Were there enemies lying in wait? Tension hung thickly in the air. They continued along the path and was almost to the main road when Suk-kwon suddenly broke the silence.

"Be prepared, there are men on either side of the path." The warning chilled the group. Instinctively, they drew nearer one another. "Keep the fight clear of the women and don't get lure away, they might try that. Stay within this vicinity. They outnumber us but don't worry about that. Keep walking but attack when they come."

Yunbok could feel the Joon brothers around him gearing up for action as they continued to walk. Five paces, ten paces, fifteen. When would they attack? Twenty...thirty... what were they waiting for? A shout and men sprang out of their hiding places, wielding swords. To Yunbok, it was as if they appeared all at once. How many, he had no idea except they were all racing towards the group. As the Joon brothers engaged the men who had reached them, he backed away with Jeong-hyang behind him to get out of melee range. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Suk-kwon battling it out against three men.

Screams and shouts. He heard P'ado wailing his distress but dared not turn around to see if the boy was injured for a quartet rushed at them. He leaped forward to draw them away, ducking and rolling out of their swipes. Commotion and chaos reigned. His focus narrowed down to the two that faced him. Slash, block, he evaded an attempt to kick him and ducked another slash, turning his staff into a twirl of hard hammer blows that one of his opponents could not fend off. A blow landed on the side of the face. Blood and a broken tooth went flying as the man went down. His companion moved in.

"Master Seo!"

He heard the call. Something had happened, he knew, but his attacker was pressing him. Angrily, he struck the legs of his opponent at the first opportunity, hearing the man screamed even as he went down. Ignoring his fallen opponent, he spun around and blinked in surprise to see the Chinese thugs were all engaged. Where had all the extra men came from?

"Master Seo!" He turned to see Ae-young's frantic waving, one arm holding on tightly to a crying P'ado. Her expression of relief was profound when she saw she had gotten his attention.

"They have taken mistress Im!"

His heart turned cold as he frantically looked about. It was true, there was no sign of Jeong-hyang. Where?

"North-east!" Ae-young shouted.

No, no. He took off in the direction she pointed. Now he could see the trail of broken grasses and followed. They must have dragged her away the moment he was distracted. Was she injured? How far had they gotten to? He would never forgive himself if anything happened to her. So absorbed was he in his thoughts that he almost failed to see the figure that rose from the grasses before him.

"You no where go!" the man said in broken Korean, grinning.

"Get out of my way!" Yunbok said furiously, attacking at the same as the man moved to cut at him with his sword. The blow was tremendous, the sword flew out of the man's hand and as he stood gaping foolishly at his empty hand, Yunbok struck him mercilessly across the torso. The man screamed as he went down but Yunbok ignored him and ran on. How far away were they? He wished he had not left her side. He wished he had not been delayed by the man he struck down. He wished he could fly. Most of all, he wished he had Hyun-su before him now. Would she use the dagger? He spared a moment to jump as high as he could to see if he could catch sight of them and spotted figures ahead.

Far ahead, Jeong-hyang tried to be as uncooperative as she could even if the grip on her arm and collar was too strong for her to break. She wrenched back now and then, to see if anyone was behind them and her heart leapt when she saw someone in the distance. The sight galvanized her into putting up a stronger resistance.

"You stupid woman! Stop struggling," Hyun-su snarled as he dragged at her. Breath rasped harshly in his throat as he dug his fingers into her flesh to stop the shaking in his hands. There was little time left, he must leave as soon as possible before the authorities caught up to him. After all he had tried to do, nothing had worked. Thanks to that stupid father of his. Wasn't the son more important than the daughter or the wife? How was he supposed to ensure the longevity of the family name if he had no son? Now he would have to leave and slave at some foreign country until he paid off his debt. A life time of drudgery now that his plan to off set some of that debt had incurred further loses of those men back there.

It was supposed to be easy. Those idiots were supposed to be simple peasants. If they didn't run, then they would be cut down. Like wheat in a field. But no, those idiots had to fight back and made it worse for him. No matter, she would pay in full. He winced when she kicked him.

"I said stop struggling!" he roared, letting her go and fetching her a hard slap that knocked her to the ground. Panting, he looked to see where he was. Nearly to the rendezvous point, his old faithful servant would be waiting for him. "You could have helped me with her!" he shouted at the sole cartel underling who had kept pace with him. The man smirked. His job was to ensure this debtor did not run away and that was what he would do. His contempt at his charge's failure to handle one woman was like flame to oil.

The slap almost knocked her unconscious but she fought to stay alert, knowing if she faint, all would be lost. Ae-young had seen what happened and had alerted the others. She was sure it was Yunbok behind them. All she had to do was delay this horrible fellow until Yunbok and others caught up to them. She kicked out as Hyun-su began to pull at her again. It was risky but there was nothing else she could so. She suffered another slap for it.

"Are you trying to delay me?" he seized her by the lapels of her jeogori. "What, do you think that husband of yours can do anything? He's dead! My men will take care of him. What do you see in him anyways? Such a weakling, couldn't you have chosen a better man? Like me?" he did not like the hate in her eyes. "No? What's wrong with me? I would have showered you with gifts. But no, you have to put on airs, are you any better than your sisters? They work for money. Money is all they ever wanted! Why? Because they are low born slaves and they know it! All they care about is money! Are you any different? No!" he slapped her again as she fought not to cry. "So you think I'm not worthy of you, that stupid fellow back there is better? I'll show you who's better!"

"Painter!"

Yunbok faltered, he heard someone calling. Where? Where? It was a call of desperation. Hyangya, where are you? He ran on, surely they could not be any further ahead. Smell of broken trampled grass, fear, sweat; all of these brought back unwelcomed memories. His legs quaked as familiar feelings of terror swept through him, his pace staggered as he fought against being overwhelmed. He could not fail now!

_'Remember what I taught you?'_

_"It may not be enough.'_

_"Use it...only when you have no choice. When there is no other choice.'_

_'I know you will be there for me.'_

Jeong-hyang!


	10. Chapter 10

**Haji 1782**

Still nothing. No, they should he ahead of him. They couldn't be anywhere else. Running over a rise of a hillock, his heart leaped. There, a man stood looking on, laughing and mouthing words he could not hear as two figures struggled on the ground amongst the grasses. Yunbok's eyes widened when he realized who was on the ground and his heart seized. No. No. He put on a burst of speed and shouted, raising his staff. The watching man saw him, ran to head him off even as he drew his sword. Yunbok met him with a flurry of furious strikes.

The sounds of the fight finally got to Hyun-su as he fumbled at his trousers. He looked up to see the cartel underling falling to the ground with a bloodied face, his sword spinning lazily through the air to fall a distance away. That was not possible! How did this weak fellow manage to survive? So astonished was he that he could only stare blankly as Yunbok rushed at him and he cried out as pain blossomed across his chest. He fell away from Jeong-hyang, clenching at himself.

A red haze blanketed Yunbok's eyes when he glanced at Jeong-hyang huddled on the ground, her clothes in tatters. "You...," he snarled at Hyun-su and the staff crashed down again as he tried to rise. It laid him out flat. "Low life scum!"

"Stop! Your next blow is your last," a strange voice shouted. Yunbok looked up to see an old man standing a short distance away, panting as if he had run up at that moment. What froze him was the rifle in the old man's hands. A rifle trained at his chest. A rifle? Where did the old man get that? Only military personnel could handle such weapons. Jeong-hyang's heart sank when she saw that. There was no way he could evade a shot at that range. Was it over?

"Young master, are you all right?" the old man kept his gaze steady on Yunbok who listened in disbelief.

"I know you will never fail me," Hyun-su laughed, coughing as he crawled over to the old man and stood up unsteadily, hobbled from the pain of the blows Yunbok had delivered.

"What do you want me to do with him?"

"Don't kill him yet." Hyun-su chuckled. "I never thought you survive but no matter. Now that you are here ... perhaps you can tell me, why did she choose you? Look at you!" he laughed uproariously, coughed and hissed in pain. He forced a chuckle however and rubbed at his chest.

"Young master, this is your chance, let us leave before you are arrested or any of the watchdogs returned," the old man urged, his gaze never wavering from Yunbok.

"Leave? Where can I go? Where can I hide?" scoffed Hyun-su, struggling not to groan at the injuries inflicted on him. That scoundrel would pay for the pain, he promised himself but not before he returned some miseries of his own.

"Their reach is not that far," said the old man. "They know that, that's why they sent those men with you. They are not here now, this is your chance!"

"Don't be a fool. My useless father has turned me in to the authorities. I will be hunted still!" Stupid old man, always nagging. Could he not shut up for once? Hyun-su wished he could ditch the old fellow but he had his uses.

"But..."

"Don't you understand?! Every constable bureau will be on the look out for me, I will die! I am responsible for that fellow's death at the hyanggyo. My head will be chopped off. With the cartel, I still have a life, a chance." A more miserable life than the one he had now but would the old goat understand that it was better than to run himself down in Choson? If he managed to score in important tasks with the cartel, they would see his value.

"We can go to Oenara."

"Have you forgotten the troubles I made there?!" Hyun-su shouted in exasperation. Did the old goat have selective memory? "They're even faster to take off your head with their swords! I was lucky to pay what they asked with my father's goods. No, the cartel is my only answer. Don't you see, it's better that I throw my lot with them!" he began to pace. Yunbok wished he would come nearer.

"You have seen it too. There is no deny that even those at the bottom of the ranks have a good living athough not as rich as those at the top. All you need to do is perform well. Satisfy them and beyond. They have the manpower, the reputation, the wealth, properties. Rich pickings! I can start at the bottom and work my way up and I'll have a life even better than the one I have here. No one to stop me from doing anything I like! You just think!" he waved his arms wildly. Clearly delusional, thought Yunbok as he listened. After all he had done, who in his right mind would trust the fellow to accomplish anything than the cleanliness of the outhouse?

"Who knows I won't end up running the cartel some day," continued Hyun-su. "I'll have all the women I want, money and everyone will fear me! I can do it. My sister and that woman, will be my gifts to the cartel. They're worth more on the market than those men. The cartel will see that I've only their interests at heart. My determination that nothing will stand in my way will help them accomplish their goals."

"No, you make one mistake they do not like and they will drag you off to that room again. They can be merciless. You will not live. Hyun-suya, I beg you, let us leave," the old man pleaded. "There are other countries beyond China, we can make the journey. I can find work along the way, there will be no money problems I assure you."

"I have made my decision. If you don't like it, you can leave," Hyun-su said finally. The old man said nothing more but Yunbok thought he saw tears in his eyes. Why was this old man so faithful? A family retainer? If so, had he no conscience at all?

"Why do you keep silent? You there, the scrawny fellow." Hyun-su turned his attention back to Yunbok. "Oh, I know, because you are not man enough and you know it!" he taunted, enjoying the fury glittering in Yunbok's eyes. Knowing he could do nothing, not with that rifle aimed at his heart. "I tell you what, how about I show you what it is to be a man with her?"

There was no way Yunbok would allow that, Jeong-hyang knew. If he must die, then his last act would be to kill this fellow walking towards her. Her hand crept to the jangdo that had fallen out when her jeogori was torn. It laid nearby within reach. If he were gone, then she would be as well, there would be no point in her remaining. As Hyun-su drew nearer, she could sense Yunbok tensing to pounce. Time seemed to slow, as she readied herself to reach for the knife. Unexpectedly, there was a whistling thud and a gasp of pain. Everyone froze, eyes drawn to the sound. The old man looked down in astonishment at the arrow in his chest. Where had it come from?

Another whistle and a second arrow appeared to join its fellow, as if by magic. Then a third arrow appeared, this one blossomed from the old man's forehead. His eyes rolled up and the rifle fell from lifeless hands. Hyun-su gaped in disbelief and then choked in agony when Yunbok leaped forward and flashed out with his staff. Another sharp crack and he fell to the ground, screaming in agony from cracked ribs.

Suk-kwon ran up then with the Joon brothers. Walking over to a moaning Hyun-su, Yunbok looked down at him. Kill rage was roaring through him as he stared at the despicable fellow. Knuckles white on his staff, he raised it. One crushing blow between the eyes would finish Hyun-su off, he deserved it. Suk-kwon opened his mouth, then changed his mind, raising a hand to stop the others from interfering. He glanced at Jeong-hyang and quickly took off his work jacket and drew it around her as she sat up, watching Yunbok. Would he kill him? She hoped he would and yet how would he live with himself if he did? What if it was she standing there? Would she have done it if it were her?

She huddled, waiting. The staff was lowered. Yunbok finally turned away and headed for Jeong-hyang. Silently, he helped her to stand and they walked away. Behind them, Suk-kwon walked over to the body and picked up the rifle before having the Joon brothers hoist the unconscious cartel underling and Hyun-su. They ignored his whimpering cries of pain and followed behind Yunbok and Jeong-hyang. The body of the old man would be collected later.

"Here, rest a while," said Yunbok when Jeong-hyang stumbled. She leaned against him gratefully as they sat down. He said nothing, drawing Suk-kwon's jacket more securely around her and held her when she began to cry. The others following behind hurriedly gave them a wide berth, hastening their steps to give them privacy. They shut their ears to the cries of agony that Hyun-su uttered as they dragged him roughly away, faces set and angry. The Joon brothers wished they could kill the worthless wastrel but their orders had been explicit. As quickly as they could, they hurried away to the village with their prisoners.

In between his attempts to soothe her, Yunbok tried to stifle his sobs but could not so he could only sit and share with her pain. The afternoon drew on, slowly drawing to dusk. By then, their tears had dried and they were sitting there, looking at the setting sun silently. Presently, Suk-kwon appeared with a horse, Chan-su and Chang-uk with a handcart. The brothers continued on while Suk-kwon led the horse over to Yunbok.

"Rascal, time to go," he said softly. "Halmoni Nam and a woman healer are waiting at your house. Give me your staff."

Handing the staff to the older man, Yunbok tried to stand up and nearly fell from legs gone stiff from sitting too long. With effort, he got to his feet. "Hyangya, let's go home," he pulled her to her feet and with Suk-kwon's help, mounted the horse and pulled her up behind him. With a gentle slap on the horse's rump, Suk-kwon sent it moving. He watched them for a moment before turning to head towards where the Joon brothers were collecting the corpse.

"I'm tired," she said as she rested against his back.

"I know, it's not far," he assured her, kicking the horse into a trot. They wound back to the main road, back down to the village and then to the paper mill where Ae-young came running out with Chang-sun from their house the moment she heard the horse. Her face lit up briefly when she saw them and then fell when she saw Jeong-hyang. Chang-sun grabbed the reins of the horse as Yunbok dismounted.

"You're back," Ae-young moved to help as Yunbok steadied Jeong-hyang as she slide off the horse. Gently, she led her into the house.

"Where's P'ado?" Yunbok hoped the boy was fine as Chung-sun tied the horse to the fence of the vegetable patch.

"He's sleeping, at master Parks house. He thought you should spend the night there as well since the women will be tending to mistress Im," Chang-sun said sympathetically. "I brought your clothes chest to his house."

Yunbok nodded wearily and made his way to Suk-kwon's kitchen to splash water on his dirty face. Tired, he was so tired. The boy was slumbering in the daecheong when he went to check. As far as Yunbok could tell, he was unscathed. He sat down, head in his hands as he thought over what had happened in the past hours. Had he been too late? The crisis was over but he wished it had not ended as it had. He should have killed that mad man. Why did he hold back?

"It's not your fault, rascal." Yunbok looked up startled, he had not heard Suk-kwon entering the daecheong. "You tried your best but we were outnumbered."

"I know. And yet she was so confident in me, she said I will be there for her," he buried his face in his hands. It hurt to think of his failure.

"And you were. You did not fail her," Suk-kwon said firmly. "If you had not, she would have used the jangdo, wouldn't she?"

Yunbok closed his eyes for that elicited a horrible vision he had no desire to contemplate. "I wish I had killed him," he muttered.

"Will that make you happy?"

He tried to imagine Hyun-su at his feet, bleeding and dead. Unexpectedly, another image floated by and his stomach heaved. "No," Yunbok said tiredly.

"Exactly. It is not in you to kill, even in your anger. You have the soul of a giver, you have compassion, you only desire peace."

The person Suk-kwon was talking about in such glowing terms didn't sound like him. "Perhaps," Yunbok sighed. "Was anyone else injured? What happened to _him_?"

"Cuts and bruises, nothing that cannot be dealt with. No serious injury," Suk-kwon winced as he remembered Jeong-hyang. Best not to talk about that now. "They fell neatly into the trap we laid for them. Old master Han," he explained when he saw Yunbok's incomprehension. "We were aware he was looking around the hamlets in the vicinity of the town since he he knew Jeong-hyang was still around. We stationed several men nearby, waiting for him to make his move."

Yunbok stared at him. "Why didn't you take him in sooner if you knew where he was?" he said accusingly.

"Because we were not sure if there were only fifteen men with him and his sister's whereabouts were unknown," Suk-kwon returned calmly, understanding Yunbok's anger. "They had set up a hideout in the hills and we found the remaining six men, along with the sister and some of the money."

"What's going to happen to old master Meen?"

"Both father and son will stand trial. The father would likely get a lighter sentence. Hyun-su himself will go under the sword. The cartel men all survived, with injuries of course. They will be sentenced some time later once they have recovered."

"What do you think the slave cartel will do when they hear what happened?" Would they send more men to exact retribution, Yunbok wondered. "What about the money they were owed?"

"If those men had just taken the money and left with Hyun-su, nothing more would have been done. Since they chose to engage in kidnapping and assaults on innocent people, the money is forfeit," said Suk-kwon with satisfaction. "The cartel can only lay the blame the results on the bad decisions taken by the men they sent. Trying to get them back will only cost them more money, time and effort since they do not have any infuence across the border."

"You said some of the money was found?"

"Some of the men said a portion had been sent back via trading expeditions so it's not a total lost for the cartel."

That was the end of that. Yunbok hoped they wouldn't hear anything more of the slave cartel. The less they had to do with it, the better. He turned his mind to another mystery. "I'm curious about that old man. From what he said, I think he's an old family retainer. And that rifle? Where do you think he got it?"

"You might be right about him being an old family servant. I'll try to find out more about him. As to that rifle, I had a chance to examine it. It's old, but in good condition. It's not loaded," Suk-kwon smiled at Yunbok's astonished stare. "There's no residue of a match or any priming powder. You have never handled a rifle before so of course you could not tell if it was loaded even though you were near enough to see. That old man was running a bluff that you fell for. From where I was standing, I only saw the danger so I took him down. As to the rifle, the old man might have been with the military once and kept it. I'd like to know how he managed that. If not, then it's probably bought in China."

"That old man was trying to persuade him to flee but he had mad ambitions of his own," Yunbok repeated what Hyu-su had said. "I don't understand it."

"Fear," said Suk-kwon. "Instead of controlling it, he let it drove him, dictated his actions, his thoughts. Every path, irregardless of where it led, would be attractive to him. If he had gone back to the cartel, in time, he would make a faithful lackey."

"The old man had said something," Yunbok tried to recall what it was. "He said something about his not surviving that room again," he looked at Suk-kwon. "Torture?"

"Very likely. Given his character, he would not have realised who he was dealing and tried to brazen his way out. Sometimes, a victim would be driven to suicide. But I doubt if he had even considered it, he's too much the coward to have the courage to take his own life."

"Sometimes, I wonder how a man could turn out the way he is."

"It is the foolish farmer who reaps rotten fruits from enriching the field without prudence," sighed Suk-kwon, rubbing a weary neck. "The result of which is the warped person we see today."

"I wonder how P'ado would be like when he grows up," Yunbok looked down at the sleeping boy worriedly. Would he make the same mistakes as old master Meen? He did not want P'ado to turn out to be another Hyun-su.

"Rascal, you worry too much. Don't be afraid to coddle or punish him. Don't let this brush with Hyun-su marred your confidence. The environment he will be raised in is not the same as that fellow's, you and Jeong-hyang have all the qualities of good parents, I have faith in both of you. He will turn out well."

"I hope so," Yunbok smiled wryly. "With you around, how can we go wrong?"

Suk-kwon laughed and shook his head. Yunbok might not believe him then but time would prove him right, he was certain. First, they have to recover from the trauma of the incident. The question on whether Jeong-hyang had succeeded in holding off her attacker until Yunbok arrived hovered on the tip on his tongue but he held it back. It was not his place to ask. He fervently hoped she had because it meant Yunbok would have less reason to punish himself. If she did not, he hoped their bond would see them through.

Feeling tired and dirty, he went to draw water to boil and sent Yunbok to clean himself up. Refreshed and despite desiring to sleep, Yunbok took out the ledgers of the paper mill to peruse while the older man took his bath. As the night drew on, Ae-young brought them their dinners and to feed P'ado. But Yunbok had little appetite and so did Suk-kwon. They looked at each other and wondered if how Jeong-hyang was doing. Doing well and resting, was Ae-young's answer to their queries. They had to leave it at that. There was nothing more they could do. That night, Yunbok could hardly sleep. Over and over again he ran over the events of the afternoon. Trying to find the mistake he made.

The answer Ae-young gave the next morning was the same. A summons came from the magistrate so they left for Uiryeong. The interrogation was straight forward, to Yunbok's relief. They made a stop over at the Han residence where old master Han and Young-joon received them gravely, for they had heard what happened. The bruise on Young-joon's eye had faded and the cut had healed, Yunbok saw glad to see. He had been worried that his friend was badly wounded.

As they sat in the sarangbang, old master Han revealed what had been happening. Old master Meen's illegal business practices, bribery of certain officials had come to light when the constables searched the Meen residence. The only remaining property, the house, had been confiscated by the authorities. Out of sympathy, he had offered shelter to the wife and daughter as they made arrangements to travel to their relations up north once master Meen's trial was over. Su-dae had rejoined her family. He glanced at a blushing red Young-joon and announced they could expect an invitation a wedding soon. Such joyous news was certainly welcomed after recent tremulous events. Yunbok and Suk-kwon offered their congratulations. As they took their leave, Young-joon pulled Yunok's sleeve, indicating he wished a private word.

"Brother Seo, I don't know what to say but..," Young-joon began awkwardly, not knowing how to offer words to console his friend.

"I know. You have done much on my behalf, I am grateful."

"Brother Seo, promise you will come to my wedding. Tell mistress Im, I hope to see her there too."

"It is well, brother Han. We will be there," Yunbok smiled to assure Young-joon before joining Suk-kwon at the gates.

Seeing the glum look on Yunbok's face, Suk-kwon said, "Rascal, she's a strong woman." He and patted him soothingly on the shoulder as they walked along the path. "Give her time, she will recover. Don't try to force her to talk about it when you go back, just be there for her. All right?"

"Yes, master," Yunbok rubbed away the tears in his eyes.

After a suitable interval, Yunbok moved back home with P'ado but he slept in the daecheong. Until Jeong-hyang was up and about, he would not disturb her rest. Time was what she needed to get over her trauma. There was no hurry. Each day he would ask Ae-young on Jeong-hyang's progress and always received the same answer. With a heavy heart, he went about his dailly chores, keeping his worry from the others around him. Lessons at the seodang was resumed and Young-joon came down as before to help. Iseul came by with Young-joon one afternoon to see how her friend was doing. Yunbok drew Iseul aside before she left that night.

"Has she... did she," he fidgetted uncomfortably, not certain how to phrase his question.

"Brother Seo," Iseul looked searchingly at him, "if you wish to know how it is with her, it is best you speak to her yourself."

"Ah, so it is ..," he sighed, feeling more depressed than ever.

"Do not take too long," she said before turning away to the horse Young-joon held ready for her. Yunbok stared after her, what did that mean? That night, the sight of the back room door gave him no rest. Back and forth he paced, trying to work up the courage to go in and yet fearing he would be disturbing her recuperation. In the end, he spent the rest of the night at the desk, gazing unseeingly at the book he was holding as he inwardly tried to fight past the antipathy that was keeping him back.

It was nearly a week before she emerged from the room. Although she did not seem much changed, he was not at ease with her and could not initiate any conversation. It was as if they had become strangers to each other in the time they were separated. Every time he opened his mouth to talk to her, no words came out. And she was equally silent, refusing to look at him most of the time. Lost and confused, he did not return to the back room. The coldness between them was so perceptible, Ae-young became distressed by it and told Chang-sun as much. There was nothing she could do.

Suk-kwon did not feel it was his place to interfere, they would have to work out the problem themselves. Hopefully, as soon as possible, he thought as he watched Yunbok working in the vegetable patch. There was a haggard over him he didn't like. Even P'ado was affected and made a lot of fuss each day until Yunbok asked Ae-young to keep the boy with her to reduce his stress. For he felt anger and impatience when the boy would not settle down.

Thus it was, as the days passed, the gulf between Yunbok and Jeong-hyang seemed to widen even more. Acutely aware, Yunbok had no idea how to rectify it. It was as if they were both thrown back to the days of self-flagellation. Back to the time when he had revealed the truth about himself to her and they had each turned away to suffer in silence. Suk-kwon began to contemplate cornering Jeong-hyang to get her to talk for she had been saying nothing more to him than the polite greetings. How long was it going to go on?

Finally, Young-joon got together with Suk-kwon to discuss it and neither one could come up with a plan short of locking the pair in a room, forcing them to settle the problem. Just a few more days, if there was no improvement, they would do so thus. Suk-kwon looked at Young-joon, who nodded. Although it was meddling in a private affair that was none of their business, both men felt they had the well-being of the pair at heart. But as it turned out, they were not needed.

Yunbok sighed as he rubbed tired eyes. If only Chagamja could keep a steady hand, his words looked as if they were scrawled by a snail, trailing all over the paper. Was it writing or drawing he was attempting? It looked like a piece of drawing to Yunbok. Sighing, he picked up his brush and paused. Was that crying? Was it P'ado? But he was with Ae-young. Her room was next to the kitchen, he did not think he could hear such a soft cry since he was sitting in the daecheong. It came again. He got up and stood at the door to the back room. There was that lingering fragrance in the air.

He smelt it every night for she had been taking nightly baths, soaking in it for nearly a quarter of a candle. Why would she want to do so he could not understand. He could only sit and watch her go by after her bath, long hair trailing down her back, into the back room. There was that sound again. Hesitatingly, he tried the door. It opened and he peered in, listening intently. She was crying, he realized, his heart aching in pain. He stepped in quietly, closing the door behind him and using the sound to guide him in the dark, he walked slowly towards her, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, discerning she was lying on her side with the faint light filtering in from the windows.

"Hyangya," he felt her start when he touched her.

"Why are you here?" The anger in her voice stunned him.

"I thought I heard you crying," His heart sank. Why was she angry? Was it over his failure to protect her?

"Go away."

No, not until he found out what was distressing her. "I can't, not until you tell me..," he said softly.

"Tell you what? Is there anything to tell you?" she interrupted furiously.

He knelt there in the darkness, not knowing what to say. "Did I do something wrong?" he finally ventured to ask. She remained silent. "At least tell me what I have done wrong," he pleaded. "Is it because I failed you that day?"

"Why don't you ask yourself?" Contradicting desires rise up in her. She wanted to lash out at him, she wanted him to go away.

"Hyangya..." He sighed. It was as he thought; she was angry and disappointed with him. The silence weighed heavy between them. Lost, he wondered what he should do but nothing came to mind but to remove himself then, it was evident she could not tolerate his presence. Taking a deep breath, he was about to get up when she said, "Why did you stay away?"

"I...," he was not sure he understood.

"I waited for you but you never came to see me. Why?" She wanted him to go, she wanted him to stay, she wanted to scream at him. Conflicting emotions warred within her.

"I thought you needed your rest, to recover from the trauma, I wanted to give you space...," he said with some relief. Was that the reason for her anger, her coldness?

"Not because you thought I was besmirched?!" she snapped.

"What are you talking about?!" he said bewildered. Why would she even think he was upset with that? No, yes, he was certainly angry if it had happened but he didn't dare to ask her for clarification. Confusion clashed within as he groped about to find his footing. "My only concern is that you make a full recovery, able to resume your life. I thought you..," he heard a rustle as she sat up.

"You thought!" He nearly fell backwards as she sat up suddenly and gave him a shove. "You thought! What have you ever thought?"

"Hyangya," he was shocked by her violent fury.

"You thought you knew everything? You thought you knew your brother's mind when he made those dyes?" Another angry shove. "You thought you knew what was best for me when you told Young-joon to propose to me?" The next shove nearly flattened him. "You thought you were sparing me when you kept away memories of that year? You thought you know better, you are helping me by staying away?"

"I'm sorry, Hyangya," he tried to grab her hands to stop her angry pushes but she began to hit out at him. Her strikes landed painfully on him as he half-heartedly tried to block them. "I'm sorry." he caught her in a hug and winced when she struggled and continued to punch at him. The force of her fury landed hard about his shoulders. He winced but bore the pain. He had pledged to be there for her, his master had advised him to be there for her and he had failed. The pain was nothing compared to his failure.

"Where are you when I truly need you?" she cried, continuing to beat at him until she ran out of strength.

"It's my fault, I'm really sorry," he muttered, repeating the word over and over again. He closed his eyes in his anguish and held her tightly. "I'm sorry, I really...really don't know how to deal with it. I stayed away because I feel I have not kept my word to you. I don't know how to face you. In a way, I guess..I'm running away. Again."

"You were not there when I needed you to comfort me, to chase away my nightmares," she sobbed.

"I promise, no more nightmares. All right? I will be here with you." he patted her back soothingly as she cried. Gradually, her anger and distress abated.

"I tried to forget but I remember his violence. I dreamed of it every night. I wake up, hoping to see you there but there is only empty space," she pushed at him as she recalled her despair and emptiness but he did not let go. "I hate you."

"Then scream at me, beat me, anything," he felt her shivered. "I know it is my fault. Forgive me."

There was no answer, only sniffles that became softer and he could only feel the rise and fall of her chest. Was she asleep?

"No," she said as he made to lay her down in her bedding.

"What is it? Was it another dream earlier?" How was he to help her? "Remember what I told you about the stars? Do you want to go out now and see them?"

"Will they help me forget?"

"We can try. How do we know it won't work unless we tried it?" he said encouragingly.

For a long while, she said nothing. Though Yunbok had not asked her anything about that day, she knew what was on his mind. "That day," she could him tensing. ""You arrived in time that day. He did not manage to get his way with me," she felt him sagged with relief. That revelation lifted a load from his mind. "I fought with him, I tried everything you taught me to delay him because I know you will be coming with the others. He was furious because I was also hurting him. He tore at my clothes and his hands everywhere. There was madness in his eyes, I thought he would eventually kill me."

"You were brave, Hyangya. I was afraid of what he would do to you, afraid you would be forced to use the knife. I had not wanted you to do that."

"I was going to. I knew you would try to kill him even with that rifle aimed at your heart and if you die, I will not want to stay either."

"I am glad it did not come to that," he swallowed the lump in his throat.

How anguished she had been then, images of Yunbok falling dead running through her mind. Fear and anger washed over her once more as more images came unbidden; that mocking horrible face, that coldness in his eyes that shouted his desire to inflict pain, his callousness, that reek, his despicable touches. Time and time again, she had bathed, wanting to wash away those horrible memories of those invading touches but it didn't work. Shivering again, she tightened her embrace, almost desperate. She did not want to remember. She wanted to forget.

"Will you do something for me?" she pleaded.

"Anything." He would walk to the ends of the earth if it would alleviate her distress. "How do you want me to help you?"

"Do you remember that night in Hanseong? The night you came to me to finish your painting of Dano?"

"Yes?"

"Help me to forget that man's touch, Painter. Touch me as you did that night. I only wish to remember only the feeling of your hands. Help me drive away my nightmares."

Silence. Time seemed to stop as they sat there in the darkness, recalling how he had gone to her that night.

_"Please enter into my painting."_

_"What must I have to do that I can enter into this piece of painting?"_

_"Please let me see you completely. What is concealing your body under those clothes, everything that is beneath it?"_

"Your heart, your spirit...," he muttered, recalling that night. To capture into the painting.

"Will I be living in your heart, Painter?" she whispered an echo of that night. It was too dark to see his face but his every breath was clear to her. Light as a feather, she let her hand trailed down his spine and she could feel him shiver.

He remembered that night. Unable to visualise the woman on the swing for his painting, he had turned to her and she had granted his wish. Then, he was befuddled, driven by his visions. Now it was different. Totally different. Everything had changed. He was and yet was not the same person. It was not he who was asking. The sensual butterfly brushes at his neck sent a frisson through him. He closed his eyes, her closeness seemed to burn like flame.

"You are always in my heart. The moment I saw you and thereafter, each time I see you is a breath of life." His breath seemed to catch as he loosened the tie to her jacket, the silk of her hair slipping through his fingers as he drew it off her shoulders. A whisper of cloth as it fell away, followed by another. "You are my life. I do this, not just to help you forget," he touched her face gently. "I do this, out of love. Because I love you."


	11. Chapter 11

**Daeseo 1782**

"His execution takes place today, do you want to attend?" Yunbok looked up in surprise, staring incomprehendingly at Suk-kwon, frozen in mid-chew over the soban before he realized what his master was referring to. Seated nearby as she fed P'ado, Jeong-hyang gaped at the older mam. similarly taken aback. "His head rolls off at noon," Suk-kwon added helpfully as he looked casually at them. That they had forgotten all about Hyun-su was obvious. After all, it had been more than a week since the man was arrested.

"You just have to spill the news during breakfast, do you?" Yunbok grumbled. "That's very rude of you." Suk-kwon chuckled at that, not ceasing a moment in the partaking of his meal. He watched as Yunbok turned to look at Jeong-hyang. They did not say anything, merely exchanged a silent look before Yunbok turned back to him and shook his head. "I've chores to attend to. The seodang, the bees-keeping and all the chores. I have no time to spare."

It was the reaction Suk-kwon was expecting. It did not matter whether Yun-bok attend or not, he was merely curious at the reception to the news. "I found out from master Meen that the old man was an old family retainer," he said. "Been in the family since a boy."

"Then his devotion and his disregard for Hyun-su's behaviour is explained," Yunbok said dismissively. To him, it no longer matter what the old man was. As far as he was concerned, every innocent party that was involved was safe and sound. That was more important. A peaceful silence fell, broken now and then by gurgling sounds from P'ado. Once Suk-kwon was done with his breakfast, Yunbok finished his own food. Picking up the roll of papers beside him, he exchanged an unfathomable look with Jeong-hyang and tickled P'ado under his chin which made the boy giggle. He nodded to Suk-kwon and went out the door.

Suk-kwon eyed Jeong-hyang. There was something different about the two. The coldness that had separated them from that incident was gone. A sign that they had cleared up the misunderstanding. He couldn't put a finger on what had changed except that he had the impression they were closer. Although there was still had a vague hint of a shadow over her, he could see that she had more or less regained her equilibrium. It would still take time, however, for that shadow to lift completely. No matter, time was what they had. All was well. Pleased, he went to work on the vegetable patch, was wet from the storm in the night before.

As he walked down to the seodang, Yunbok mused over the news. A life to be lost that day. Hyun-su deserved the fate that would befall him. He wondered whether the man would regret all he had done or would he be moaning and feeling sorry for himself. He was inclined to believe it was the latter, the man would lay blame on everyone but himself till his last breath. Or perhaps he would snivel, thinking of nothing but if he would feel the pain of the sword. A familiar figure waved to him from the courtyard of the seodang as he approached.

"Brother Seo, did you hear that Hyun-su gets the sword today?" There was a note of relish in Young-joon's voice as he sniffed the air.

"Bloodthirsty this morning, are you? You sound as if you would like to wield the sword yourself," Yunbok unlocked the doors of the seodang, hooking them up to the rafters as Young-joon opened the windows. "Master Park anticipate the same bloodletting as you do."

"After all he had done? Of course I'm out for his blood." Carefully, Young-joon checked each brush before stacking them beside the ink sticks and brushes. "I think I'll go to the execution. What about you?"

"The sight of a sorry unfortunate life that is to end does nothing for me. I doubt he would go to it with dignity," Yunbok said quietly as he prepared the books. That gave Young-joon pause.

"True. It is never a pleasant sight but I'll go. If nothing else, to see that he is truly gone. But enough of that fellow," Young-joon changed the subject as he stood looking out the window. "I can see that they already havesting the millet," he waved at farmers working in the fields of millet, the laden millet heads waving gently in the breeze. "I hope the yields will be enough."

"The sight of it uplifts spirits. In several more days, the mug beans and autumn barley will be planted," Yunbok stood beside him, hope glimmering within as he looked upon the fields. "I heard from haraboji Yoo that despite the late sowing of in some of the revitalised farmlands in the affected provinces, the crops are growing well. The crisis should be over by the end of the year."

"I hope it is so because I am tired of eating seafood, namul and meat," Young-joon groaned. "Kyoung-mi does her best but there's nothing like a hearty bowl of bap or tteok! And when there is any at all, the dough of the tteok is so thin!" he clapped a hand to his stomach.

"Tsk, you have never known hunger, brother Han else you would appreciate the the luxuries you are having," Yunbok chided.

"True, true, I should not complain but I have high hopes the ban on liquor will be lifted before autumn!" Young-joon reached into his coat. "I have something for you, brother Seo." Yunbok looked down at the small red slim book Young-joon handed to him.

"Ah!" he smiled and flipped it open. "Fifteenth of Ipchu, Chilseok. Who chose the date?"

"The fortune teller gave a few dates, so I chose Chilseok. There was no objections to the choice."

Of course, there wouldn't be. Yunbok smiled. "The night when Gyeonu and Jingnyeo made their rendezvous. Good choice, brother Han," snapping the book closed, he tucked it into his overcoat. "We will be there, brother Han."

"Ah...could you come a little early, brother Seo? I may need your help."

"What kind of help?" Yunbok was puzzled.

"It's very simple, really...," Young-joon said hedgingly just as voices and numerous footsteps were heard. "Here they are. I'll let you know on that day."

Yunbok couldn't imagine what kind of help his friend would possibly want from him when both families would be making wedding preparations. He put it out of his mind as the boys came in and the day's lesson began. Without the stress and fear of the past weeks, time passed quickly as everyone went about their usual routines. The day closed, ushering in a peaceful evening where everyone gathered in the daecheong of Yunbok's house. Carving a wooden animal, Suk-kwon sat near the desk where Yunbok was marking the students' work, whittling away.

"I went," Suk-kwon said suddenly, not looking up from his task. "To the execution." At this, Jeong-hyang put down her needlework while Ae-young looked his way as she played with P'ado.

"To satisfy your curiosity, no doubt," Yunbok said abstractedly.

"Aren't you the least bit curious on how he faced his death? How much courage he had?"

He wasn't but his master obviously wanted to talk about it. "All right then, you tell me," Yunbok sighed. "Was he blubbering, cursing at everyone who had a hand in his fate?"

"He was doing neither. He walked like one already dead. There was absolutely no expression on his face, right to the last. He's either in deep shock or simply resigned to his fate," carefully, Suk-kwon blew on a deep etch to clear it of wood shavings, making sure they land on the cloth he had spread acorss his lap. "I was expecting him to do what you suggested," he continued.

"Were you disappointed?" Jeong-hyang asked.

"There is no satisfaction nor disappointment. I wished to see his true face at the moment of his death. There is always something to learn," Suk-kwon finished the carving, brushed and cleaned it carefuly with a cloth and held the wooden pig out to P'ado who gave a toothy grin at the new toy. "Here, young fellow. Twaeji!" Yun-bok and Jeong-hyang exchanged glances at that statement. Later that night, when P'ado was asleep, they went out to the porch.

"What are you thinking of?" she said, as they sat looking at the night sky, listening to the breeze rustling the leaves of the jujube trees nearby.

"I just can't help but think of the day I was sentenced to be executed," he hugged her lightly, gazing up at the stars. "I wonder if he felt the same way I did."

"Why do you care?"

"I don't but in that moment of truth, there is no place to hide. You face yourself. If he is cognizant of this, it means he still had a shred of conscience, that he was not totally lost."

"I only care that he is gone, forever." There was fervant satisfaction in her voice.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm not sure but it's as if something that has pressing down on me has been taken away," she sighed, running her hand over his arms crossed over her. "And yet..."

"It is not completely gone, I know. It takes time and even then, the memory and the pain will always be there, but dulled by time."

"Thus speak the sage." He heaved a sigh at that dig and she was immediately contrite. "I know. How can I compare what I had gone through with what you had suffered? I thought I could empathsize more closely but the scales are unequal."

"How can you say that?" he shook her gently. "How can you put a value to suffering, saying this is greater than that? Every ordeal, no matter what it is, is paramount."

"Once, I would have thought I would be the one to say that. If I ask you now, do you still think you are totally responsible for your brother's death, how will you answer?"

"Young-bok," he rested his chin on her shoulder and closed his eyes, mentally bringing up the images of his foster-brother, as she waited with bated breath. "We were together for ten years, I never thought he would leave, not that way. It really hurt, to think he chose to do what he did. And that I failed to see what it was doing to him, I blind to everything else but the dye and the desire to bring him home. I brought him home all right but not in the way I imagined it," he said bleakly.

"Painter."

"I know," he rubbed his cheek against hers. "I know what you are trying to help me to see. In a way, this recent incident made me realize that no matter how hard one tries to prepare for contingencies in a matter that seemed straightforward, still, there is a chance for failure. Such is the capricious of fate. Even if I were able to see what was happening with Young-bok, there was the possibility I would not be able to prevent the accident."

"You still blame yourself nevertheless."

"I do. I began the chain of events but he too, had equal responsibility in his own demise. Hyangya, it's so difficult.."

To hear him say that was a great relief to her. "As you have said, time will heal but the pain will always be there. You have finally realized that it's wrong to assume you had total culpability." she hesitated, wondering if she should voice what was on her mind.

"What is it?"

"Has it ever..," she took a deep breath. "occur to you that, there was another reason behind his reckless motivation in making the dye?"

"What are you saying?" he frowned.

"I'm trying to say that, there's a possibility that he..," she faltered. "did it not just out of brotherly love..."

"I know. I realized that sometime ago."

"You did?" she nearly jumped to her feet in astonishment.

"It occurred to me, out of the blue. It happened one day when I was reaching out to touch you and I realized that Young-bok also did the same thing, on many occasions throughout the years. Little gestures and touches that I took for brotherly affections. When we hugged outside the palace grounds, that was not really the kind of embrace brothers give to each other. The last time time he came to see me, I misunderstood that expression on his face. I..don't know," he hesitated. "I may have misconstrued my own feelings for him too. I'm sorry, Hyangya."

"There is nothing to be sorry about, I'm only glad you are willing to consider and explore the truth of his feelings and yours. It will allow you to move on."

"It's that simple?"

"If only you saw it before, then we would not be having the arguments we had before," she turned, tracing his face with a finger. "But then without them, we would understand each other a little less and of ourselves. We would not be forced to reach out to heal the breach, to show that we care for each other."

"Are you advocating we should plan out having rows?" he grinned. "How about having one tomorrow? It's Daeseo, surely jangbok will have an effect on us..."

"You talk too much."

* * *

**Han Residence**  
**Ipchu 1782**

Yunbok stared at Young-joon as they stood in his friend's room. "What? Me?" he spluttered. "Why?"

"Because you are the one who brought us together so you should have the honour of carrying the honsuham. You'll bring us good luck!" Young-joon plucked the beautiful wooden black lacquered lotus decorated honsuham from the hands of the servant nearby and pushed it on Yunbok.

"This is too weighty an honour, I'm afraid I..," Yunbok tried to pass the chest back to the servant who backed away grinning.

"Please, brother Seo, do you want me to beg?" Young-joon dusted down his coat, preparing to carry out his threat. At that, Yunbok capitulated.

"All right, all right," he grumbled as Young-joon beamed. "But I don't know the way to her house."

"Here. I prepared the directions for you, here," Young-joon fished out a small piece of paper and showed it to Yunbok. "Something you can refer to on the way but I believe you have a good memory, brother Seo."

"You never know," Yunbok grinned, taking the paper and reading it. "I might lead you astray and you'll end up where your bride will reject you tonight!"

"Master, it's time to leave," the servant said, preventing any reply from Young-joon who glared at Yunbok in mock anger.

A sanggaek, he was only expecting to follow the groom's small procession to the bride's home that evening, not getting dragged into heralding Young-joon's marriage bid. Ah well, no help for it. He stepped out of the room and reluctantly took up his position near the horse held in readiness in the courtyard. He made a face at Jeong-hyang standing with Kyoung-mi. She turned away to hide her grin of amusement at his grumpy look. Neither noticed the intense but sad expression of the woman next to her.

Once he had completed the ritual at the family shrine, Young-joon returned to the courtyard and mounted the horse. Since he was the forerunner of the groom's procession, Yunbok walked to the front gates and hesitated, pretending not to know which way to turn. The lantern bearer with his lit cheongsachorong stopped short, wondering what he was up to. He cast a mischievous grin at Young-joon who glared and mouthed something at him before giving him an exaggerated pleading look. Taking pity on his friend's anxiety, Yunbok stopped fooling around and led the small procession; the groom, the man with the wooden duck and a couple of his friends off, in the right direction. The rest of the guests made their own way to the bride's house via another road. An old servant of the family, leading Young-joon's horse began to sing. Small crowds gathered to watch, to satisfy their curiosity about the groom, as they wound their way through the streets .

When they arrived, the gates of the bride's house were opened, festooned with auspicious talismans and decorations. Yunbok waited with the others at the gates as Young-joon rode past and was shown to a small tent near the gates. Eventually he emerged in ceremonial dress, the wings on his hat wobbling. At a signal, when the time came, Yunbok strolled to the courtyard and placed the honsuham on the small table covered with red cloth and retreated as the chosen representative, a woman, approached and picked up the chest and examined the contents at the daecheong. What was in it, Yunbok had no idea but other than the usual raiments, there should be other offerings of jewellery and clothes. Young-joon would not stint, he was sure.

The master of the ceremony called out once the woman gave a signal and Young-joon stepped through the gates once more, placing the wooden duck passed to him on the table and bowed four times. The duck had vanished by the time he finished his bows. With solemn majesty, Young-joon walked to the east side of the gobaesang as Yunbok and the rest gathered with the guests under the marquee that had been set up and waited patiently for the bride to have her hair decorated.

Yunbok eyed the gobaesang. A pair of candle sticks, a pair of vases with pine and bamboo branches, a live hen and cock with their legs tied, two bowls of white rice, chestnuts, jujubes, gingko nuts, drinking gourds, cups and wine. Food laden tables were beckoning temptingly. All present. A nudge at his side brought his gaze to Suk-kwon who coughed meaningfully in the groom's direction. Yunbok realized the bride had appeared at the west side of the gobaesang and that Young-joon was trying very hard to keep a solemn countenance even as he tried to see the bride. It was rather pointless at the moment really, her sleeve was covering her face.

The ritual was intoned sedately. Hands were washed and bows exchanged. The rite of greeting was repeated before wine was exchanged three times. Yunbok tried not to laugh as Young-joon seemed not to notice what he was doing, throwing the wine down his throat with almost unseemly haste. Once the third rite was completed, the bride to a room while Young-joon went to another at the sarang. With the others who were in the procession, Yunbok followed him and waited outside as he changed into the clothes prepared by the bride's family.

The food on the large tables were presented and packaged carefully to be sent to the Han residence. The presentation over, Yunbok returned to the courtyard with the others as Young-joon was shown to the sinbang. At this, the guests began presenting their greetings and gifts to the families. After presenting their gifts, Yunbok went off home with Jeong-hyang and Suk-kwon, pleased that everything had gone off well.

They returned the next afternoon with a slightly bigger group for the party at the bride's house which was already in full swing when they arrived. The atmosphere was convivial. The air filled with happy conversations. Tobacco floating in streams as men smoked their pipes, toasts were called. The aroma of food whetted appetites after a period of reduced provisions, the laughter and giggles of children in the garden nearby added to the cacophony. Su-dae was going about, serving wine and food. Suk-kwon and the Joon brothers greeted the sight of liquor with much delight. When Young-joon appeared, the Joon brothers dragged him forward to ask about the night to which he did not make much audible answers. Declaring they were dissatisfied, they pantomined beating his feet with a stick to the amusement of the rest of the guests.

Remembering his promise to Jeong-hyang not to imbibe too much, Yunbok took small sips from his wine cup and sampled the lavish offerings of food. Face flushed with the wine he had imbibed and his happiness, Young-joon insisted on having seven toasts with Yunbok to mark the joyous occasion. When he would have tried to get Yunbok to drink more, Suk-kwon adroitly distracted him with his own toasts, giving Yunbok the opportunity to slip away.

Where to? Not wishing to be waylaid by Young-joon further, Yunbok decided to make for the garden. It was relatively quiet as all the children had been called away to their own meals but the smell of the tobacco they had been smoking lingered. It had rained in the early afternoon so the soil was still a little damped but the flowers were at the last stages of their glory. Soon, they would begin to wilt. Mentally, he reminded himself to put out his books to air on the morrow. As he thought about the list of chores to be done, the sound of footsteps behind him caught his attention.

"Brother Seo."

"Mistress Han," he bowed politely. She was looking well since their last encounter, which was quite sometime. Last year, in fact, he realized. "How are you?" Heon-sok, he noted, was still the mouse as ever, hovering timidly behind her mistress.

"As well as could be. I can see you are just the same."

"Fate has been kind," he wondered why she seemed sad. "I hope I'm not intruding. It's your cousin's wedding day, but... is there a problem?"

"No, no. I'm happy he has found a bride, he can set up his own family soon like Uncle has always wanted."

"And you? I'm sure your uncle would try to find someone for you."

"Perhaps. I saw you out here so... I want to take this chance to say goodbye."

"Are you going somewhere?" he said with surprise. Young-joon had not mentioned his cousin's departure.

"Yes, I'm going to leave for the north, to stay with relatives."

"I see...," he said thoughtfully when actually, he did not.

"Young-joon is married. By rights, Su-dae should have charge of the household. I'll just get in her way as it is, so I thought it's better that I leave," she said in a rush.

"Surely...," he began, thinking that was perhaps a legit reason for her decision but it sounded superfluous to him. Su-dae was just sixteen. Granted, she would have been trained to run a household but she was inexperienced. It would be like asking a sailor with rudimentary training to be suddenly tasked with helming a ship the moment he stepped onboard. "Pardon me, but it sounded like you have just made this decision. Is that fair to..."

"She will do well. The Han household is small, it's not as if she has to cater to dozens of relatives," she said firmly.

"It's not my place to ..."

"Goodbye, brother Seo. Please do take care of yourself," she turned away abruptly as he blinked in bewilderment. What was with the interruptions? It sounded like she did want to be anywhere near him and could not wait to get out of there. He watched her walk out of the garden, her tread curiously getting slower and slower until just before she vanished out of sight, she turned around once more to look back at him and then she was gone. He sighed and shook his head at her strange behavious. Something was troubling her but it was not his place to figure it out. He would leave that to her family.

Looking at the sky, he realised it was dusk. Not inclined to linger at the party further, he made a stop at the house and got a maid to pass a message within and returned to the courtyard. Young-joon was still on his feet, though he was visibly getting more and more tipsy. To his dismay, so were the Joon brothers when he went to their table. All three had their heads on the latge soban. At least his master did not seem affected, Yunbok gazed with some surprise at Suk-kwon's calm countenance. How much had he drank?

"I'm not drunk," Suk-kwon said affably when he saw Yunbok's surprised look.

"So I see," Yunbok eyed the jugs on the soban. Did the Joon brothers consume most of the wine?

"Really, I'm not," the older man insisted, throwing back another cup of wine down his throat as Yunbok watched dubiously. A chorus of voices sounded and he turned around to see what was happening; several guests were exchanging poems. Or trying to, in their intoxication. "See, they're even worse than me!"

"If you say so," Yunbok agreed. "Did you notice it's getting close to night? It's time for us to leave."

"Leave?" Chang-sun lifted his head, blinking owlishly. "Where's Ae-young?"

"Yes, leave. Unless you'll like to spend the night here."

"That's a thought!" someone blundered into Yunbok from behind and Young-joon drapped an arm over his friend's shoulder. "Spend the night here," he hiccuped, almost pouring wine down Yunbok's front. Yunbok pushed back to get him upright.

"Splendid idea!" advocated Chang-uk, reaching out for his cup.

"Definitely you need to lie down," Yunbok hastily removed the cup from Young-joon's hand before it could tip over. "Time for you to retire. Master Park, if you can give me a hand."

Was that hesitation or a wobble? Suk-kwon got his his feet and picked up Young-joon's other arm. Together they maneuvered the drunken groom to the sinbang, getting a servant to show them the way.

"He will be too drunk to do anything tonight," commented Suk-kwon as they laid Young-joon in his bedding and removed his gat.

"It does not concern...," Yunbok jumped when Young-joon suddenly reached up and grabbed him by his coat lapels.

"Su-dae, come to bed!"

"He would if he could," barked Suk-kwon with laughter as Yunbok twisted his friend's hands off firmly and pushed him back down to the bedding, retreating as fast as he could. "Why not drag a mule in here, it will make no difference to him," he laughed again and staggered before sitting on the floor.

"What's gotten into you?" Yunbok said in consternation when the older man kept on laughing. Was his face getting redder?

"Even if he doesn't perform tonight, there are other nights." Suk-kwon suddenly spread his arms wide and launched into a sing-song chant of a poem that astounded and embarrassed Yunbok thoroughly.

_The young bride's early rice paddies are_  
_so wet and fertile between high mounds ;_  
_If she wants a tenant for sharecropping,_  
_let me be the one as I have a fine tool ;_  
_Given she picks me for her tenant indeed,_  
_I'll take up my shovel and sow the seed._

"Master! That's...you are really drunk!" Yunbok watched in amazement as Suk-kwon laid down on the floor and began to snore. "Master?" he went over and tapped Suk-won's face lightly. "Master?" No response. He was really drunk? But he did not behave like one. "Master!" he yelled into Suk-kwon's ear but all it elicited was an irritated grumble. How much had he really drank? Come to think of it, he had never seen Suk-kwon tipsy before or partake as liberally as he did today. He sighed and regarded the two men dourly. That was the most elegant but ribald poem he had ever heard, master Park had surpassed them all.

He sent the hovering servant to get the Jon brothers while he tried to wake Suk-kwon unsuccessfully. When the brothers appeared, Yunbok regarded their flushed faces dubiously but had them hauled Suk-kwon home. With much stumbling and fumblings, they pulled Suk-kwon to his feet and got him away. Yunbok stayed a while to cover Young-joon with a quilt and exited the room. It was up to Su-dae to sober him up, if she was inclined to. The party had lost some energy when he passed through the courtyard but they were still drinking. He bid farewell to his hosts and was not surprised to see Jeong-hyang waiting for him by the gates with a lantern.

"How did it go?" her eyes lit up when she saw him. "The others have already gone home but I wanted to wait."

"What can you expect? He's totally drunk," he took the lantern from her as they made their way down the path. The streets were not as crowded as before with people hurrying home before curfew sounded. They said nothing more until they passed through the gates and walked down the road to the village.

"If I remember it right, you were nearly as drunk as he was on such an occasion," she said, keeping a hand on his arm as she peered at the trail before them.

"No, I was not," he protested. "I was still on my feet at the end of it."

"You only think you were. Master Park had to haul you in before you could start saying the wrong things or your drunken colleagues could begin to come up with funny ideas."

"I was? But I don't remember any such thing," he frowned.

"Like I said, you were drunk." she smiled as he caught hold of her hand. "I had to make you vomit a little and you slept for a while. That's why I asked you not to drink too much today."

"That was prudent. You and Ae-young would have been the only ones left to deal with us," he laughed. "It was strange. Master Park did not look tipsy at all. But his face turned red quickly before he passed out," he added.

"Ah, I've come across such men. Seemingly lucid in one moment, sleeping in the next. Their faces don't show the effects initially. But you can tell sometimes, from the things they say."

"Oh, he bemoaned that Young-joon will be lacking tonight and he recited the most tactless poem I ever heard of." It was an incident to remember and to tease his master with when he was sober. "At least Young-joon got it easy. I had to resort to 'kidnap' for our part. Considering that you were only just next door, what was the whole point of the exercise?"

"It was fun nevertheless," she laughed. "It's just as well you did not have to carry me over your shoulder. I doubt you would be able to walk past the door."

"Are you sure? Let me try it on you now," he said, grinning, moving towards her to suit action to words.

"No, you dont!" she pushed him away as he made to grab her. Chuckling, he did not try again.

They walked home in silence, enjoying the cool night air which was a little chilly, reminding them it would be autumn soon. The rice harvest would be gathered in less than a month and there would plenty to eat, something everyone was looking forward to. Was it going to be a year already since they got together? The passage of time was like water, slipping by so fast, Jeong-hyang mused. And yet, it had seemed to drag when she was living alone, with Ae-young. Every day with him was like a balmy sojourn.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Thinking that time is flowing by so fast. Everyday with you is a day of summer. Wondering how I had managed to get by alone."

"I was thinking of the same thing," he grinned as they turned into the courtyard of their house, already darkened. "Looks like Ae-young and P'ado have gone to bed."

"Do you remember the night we were out, almost like this, with a lantern?" How heartbreaking that night was for her, she recalled.

"I painted it, didn't I? "Moonlight Rendezvous," he looked up at the moon and murmured under his breath.

_Sharp though the light favored was the night_  
_shadows crept and the wounded moon wept_  
_of broken hearts and withered dreams_  
_tears were shed and sorrows reamed ;_  
_as with much bitter regret two lovers part_

"We have come a long way since then," she followed his gaze. "Our hearts have mended."

"And it's a different moon tonight. We are different. Everything is different."

They looked at each other, eyes shining brilliantly with their emotions, as if lit with starlight.

_Can you feel my heart, painter?_

_Wherever I am, every moment that I live. _

_Our hearts are one._

_Our hearts beat as one. Always, now and forever._

The stars twinkled merrily as two figures merged, silent witnesses to the pledge, adding their lights to the illumination of the moon. As they had been doing so through the ages and would continue as long as they burned brightly.

* F * I * N* I* S

* * *

Korean Words

_cheongsachorong - red and blue wedding lanterns_  
_honsuham - wedding chest_


End file.
